CarvinDad's blog: "Carvin Dad"

Although I'm feeling pleasantly nostalgic as Father's Day rolls around again, I'm also feeling a tad old. I suppose as one ages, he is more prone to feel nostalgic; more life experiences, more history lived through and seen firsthand.

It seems as if it was yesterday that James, Marcus, Karesa, Darian, and Ashlyn were in diapers. For me, my oldest were in diapers at roughly the same time as my youngest, Ashlyn, now 5. It's incredible the way the brain doesn't add time to memories. Perhaps that's a good thing, and in the case of our children, why we continually love them more and more with every passing year. Due to the brain-time thing, whatever you want to call it, our children are always our babies, always new to us.

Jamie, it seems like yesterday that you were walking around the house, diaper on your butt, holding a tiny electronic guitar up to your bare chest trying to do what I was doing on my Carvin. And now, you're doing things on your own Carvin that I never could have done. At about the same time, you held a little kiddy fishing pole and stood in between your uncle Butch and me as we fished day in and day out. Now, you're going fishing with your friends, one day soon to be doing the same with a son or daughter of your own. Yesterday, you were drawing picture after picture, going through hundreds and hundreds of crayons, colored pencils, and reams of paper. Today, you're an accomplished artist, and now your work will live on throughout peoples' lives forever via tattoos.

You've become a man, Jamie, in every sense of the word, an accomplished musician and artist, and your ol' man is damn proud of you.

Marcus, it seems as if it were yesterday that you were asking me about the stars, moon, and sun, asking very specific questions that no 3 year old usually asks his father. "Dad, how many miles away are we from the sun? How many kilometers is that?" And today - literally yesterday, in fact - you called me asking about the Born-Oppenheimer Approximation and Schrödinger Equation, a partial differential equation. You went from a wide-eyed toddler to an accomplished physics/mathematics major. What's next on the phone call list, son? Sonoluminescence? Yang-Mills Theory? The Cognitive-Theoretic Model of the Universe?

I can't wait for the call, and I look forward to being the father-student for a change.

Yesterday, Marcus, you were looking up at the marks we made on the wall to gauge you kids' height. You asked, "Daddy, when will I be as tall as you?" Now, I am looking up to you... in more ways than height. Around the same time while I was researching some things, you asked, "Daddy, who is Michael Faraday? And who is Nikola Tesla?" And now, one day I'm certain your name will be spoken in the same sentences as theirs are.

I'm damn proud of you, son. Unlike your father, you have both intelligence and creativity, and that, to me, is true genius.

Ah, Karesa, where do I begin? For a large part of your life, it was just you kids and dad. And this old man, admittedly, knew nothing of raising daughters when you were young. You used to wear dresses and pretty clothes, complete with diaper underneath, that matched your eyes. All I knew about buying clothes for a little lady was that maybe I should get things that matched those angelic eyes of yours. You used to point at things you wanted in the mall and Wal-Mart, and I used to just buy 'em. Your fashion sense, even at such a tender age, must have been stellar, as now most folks, when they see your pictures, ask me what company you model for. To answer, I just give the "highly protective dad" look so they shut up, and then answer with, "That's my daughter, and she has just as much brains as she has beauty."

Yesterday, Karesa, you were jumping around on the trampoline with your brothers and sisters, showing them up with flips, twirls, and God-only-knows-what. My heart skipped beats the closer you got to the edge, but all that jumping paid off, didn't it? You're one of the finest athletes that has ever graced this state and certainly will remain so for quite some time.

Asking me about math was something you used to do constantly as a youngster, Karesa. I remember drafting a dome for your uncle Billy many years ago. I had just taken a break to make yet another pot of coffee for another 24 hour day, and you walked up, spaghetti on your face, bright blues eyes a glowing, and asked, "What's Radius of Curvature, Daddy?" You didn't say it just right, and you had just overheard me telling Billy about it, but you sure had an interest. And now, you're off to college to become an accountant, a numbers gal.

Karesa, you've grown into a beautiful scholar, a lovely young woman, and I am so very proud of you. I know you're going to excel at whatever you do, and just promise me one thing: If you end up working for the IRS, don't audit me. I may not have money, but you kids make me the richest man in the world.

Darian, it seems like yesterday you were helping me refinish the hard wood floors at our old house. You were a mere 20 months old and trying to sand down the floors with me. Every move I made, you mimicked. While the other kiddos went to the park to play, you stuck by my side and tried to help me the best you could. I didn't understand why you didn't want to go to the park with your older brothers and sisters. But I get it now. You have a heart the size of Texas, and helping others is what you do best, and it makes you feel good about yourself to bring a smile to someone's face. And well it should.

At 3, you were trying to help with dishes, Darian. You hated them just as badly then as you do now, but you still offered to help, your tiny little hands all covered with suds, your face even more so, giggling when I'd splash you with water. For years, you've helped take care of your nephews and other children. You have an innate motherly instinct - a rarity in today's age - that's sure to help build a wonderful family someday.

I always thought of you as "Daddy's little Buddhist," Darian, one that constantly volunteers to help folks, for no other reason than just because you can. You have some of the best aspects of all your siblings: looks, brains (even though you're too stubborn to use them sometimes!... just like dad), artistic ability, especially with hair and cosmetics, and heart. I'm damn proud of you, kiddo, and i know your mom is too.

Ashlyn, you're an oddity, and even though you're 5 daddy still hasn't figured you out. You can already read, write, do math well beyond your years, and you seem to have an interest in everything that all of your siblings, your mom, and your dad have. Day after day, night after night, you sat on my lap asking me about everything I was studying. Forensic psychology, genetics, physics, chemistry, high echelon mathematics, music theory -- you sit and ask me about all of it, and more, and pay attention to even the tiniest details that I say. You never fail to make me laugh heartily when you say things such as, "Daddy. I'm not a kid. Explain it to me like you do bubby Marcus." It's even funnier when you misinterpret my laugh and say, "Stop laughing at me, dad. I'm smarter than you."

Ah, your mom's attitude and your dad's temper -- I'm not sure whether to say you're blessed or cursed, Ashlyn! Fortunately, you have more brains and creativity than the both of us. I think that means that if you go into law, you'll be able to get yourself off of assault and battery charges when you beat up thugs. :)

No matter what you do in your life, Ashlyn, I'm sure you'll succeed. You will undoubtedly be smarter than the overwhelming majority of people you meet. When I'm old and gray, I'm sure you'll be the kiddo that'll be my bodyguard. I'm extremely proud of you, and watching you grow as I've done with your siblings is sure to be a wild, adventurous ride.

As parents, our only real legacies are our children. By raising up our children to be better than ourselves, more loving, compassionate, honorable, and intelligent, we make the world a little bit better place than it was when we were born into it. I'm proud to say that all of my children are better than me.

Dad loves you kiddos more than you'll ever know.

--Dad