Writing Samples: "Their Best Advice...Dad"

My father was never one to sit down and prepare me for the many facts of life, which a child should learn while they are still young. Most often, when we sat down for any discussion, Dad did the speaking and I listened dutifully. This pattern continued until late in Dad's life. Then old age forced him to slow down and become a listener as well.

However, like most rules in life, there are times when the mold shall be broken and spontaneity prevails. Though I cannot recall the date, I know that on one summer night, in the house I rented in Burlington, Wisconsin, my father gave me the only true piece of advice on life that I can ever recall him passing on to me. That house and that spot of land are almost sacred ground to me for that reason.

He had been talking about his not so silent echoes of his baseball and basketball prowess, echoes which are today silent because dad has passed on, but which yet echo in my mind occasionally. Dad listened to my request for advice on how to overcome my homesickness.

He knew me better than I realized, because he got right to the core of the matter. He made me understand that I had a propensity for seeing mostly the sad things in life. Just as my family role models had felt, I knew that the water cup was half empty. I never conceived that it could be anything but half empty, let alone being half full. Then, in his simple, manly way, he spoke a three-letter word I have not forgotten since. He told me that I had to "try" to not think of the sad things.

This was so profound that, when I went to bed late the next morning, I barely slept, due to its potential impact upon my life. I could not recall a time when I actually tried to not think of depressing, overwhelming things that had happened, were happening or perhaps could happen. I bore them all upon my shoulders constantly, imagining, I guess, that by being aware of them made me better prepared to handle them - if they should ever have the powerful effect on my life, which I must have imagined that they could have.

They were having a mighty effect on my life, indeed. They were depressing me!

The very next day, I put his short but penetrating sermon of the previous night, to the test and it worked. Those silent echoes, which controlled my days in the past, were powerless against me, the more I practiced this gem of advice. To this day, I must remind myself of the night my dad dropped his guard and gave this son a tool for dealing with life. In fact, my family last evening had to remind me to try to settle down, though I feel as though I should carry a particular burden with me full time, in order for certain things to happen. Worrying about this matter will not help. I can be more productive and efficient if I try to keep the weights of this world off of my shoulders and focus upon what I am able to achieve, because my cup of life truly is half full, if not completely full.

Friends, how can you win the race of life, if you drag dead weights with your every step? It will not only not add years to your life, but it will rob you of moments, hours, perhaps even years from the life God has given you. Listen to this, because it might seem especially odd coming from this author. There are silent echoes that must be pruned from your past. Continue to listen hard for the secret sounds of the past, or even the ones you know will come in the future (as in "Sleeping Babies", in the original Silent Echoes). But for goodness sake, cut off those which are harmful, and heed the only advice I can ever recall my father giving me: "Try to not think of the sad things."

(continued in "Their best advice ...Mom")