My wife forgets nothing. She has hundreds of journals to prove it. I don’t know if she has ever lost anything except maybe her patience with me. I seem to lose my keys and phone on a weekly basis. Could someone please buy me some Apple AirTags for Christmas? She told me to retrace my steps, to think about what I was doing. But the odds of me remembering are about the same as recalling answers to a High School History test. After I stomp around for a while unsuccessfully, she will eventually find what I’ve been looking for without even trying.
I’m absent-minded.
But some things…I remember. I remember how my parents modeled the right way to live. They didn’t raise their voices to one another or to their children. They never tore me down; they built me up. They didn’t make demands; they expected the best. They didn’t dwell on what I did; they reflected on why I did it. They weren’t slavedrivers; they were guides. My dad didn’t work on the weekends; he coached me instead. They didn’t sleep in on Sundays; they took us to church. They taught me how to serve by serving me. They taught me how to love by loving me. They taught me how to be kind by being kind to me. They taught me how to coach by coaching me.
Wisdom has been passed down to me through multiple generations.
As Crawford Loritts might say, “We stand on the shoulders of giants.” My favorite saying from my mom, which I love sharing today, is:
“He who knows not and knows not that he knows not is a fool…shun him. He who knows not and knows that he knows not is a child…teach him. He who knows and knows not that he knows is asleep…wake him. He who knows and knows that he knows is wise…follow him.”
I like to think that the reason I can’t remember some things is because I only have room for the most important things. My granddad was a wise man. He was in the forestry business, and I used to keep a framed newspaper article about him on my wall, “Timber is like a crop of corn.” He would tell me often early in my career to “stop and smell the roses.”
When my son, Quinn, died, “It was a blessing in disguise.” And one of my favorites, “He who hesitates is lost.” I didn’t wait long to ask my beautiful wife to marry me! My parents are wise. My dad’s two favorite sayings are, first, “It just doesn’t get any better than this.” And second, “The most important things in life aren’t things at all.” I am becoming wiser and hope I’ve remembered and modeled just enough for my children and grandchildren to be wise as well. Time will tell.
It’s hard to live progressively wiser.
Each year brings new demands and challenges we didn’t see coming. As soon as we reach a resting point, a new journey presents itself. My oldest son is already sixteen, and I’ve wasted so much time. I should have played with them more. Coached more. Wrestled more. Hugged more. Encouraged more. Served more. More of so many good things. Have I worked too much? I know I’ve wasted precious years watching TV. Scrolling through my phone. The past can sometimes be redeemed with the present. So, this year, I will try to make time my slave and not the other way around. The fruits of success must be shared, not hoarded. I know my parents sleep well at night because my sister, Charity, and I make them proud. They wanted love and laughter in their lives, and we continue to provide it simply by breathing.
What do I tell my children?
Call me ambitious, especially in a world where the birth rate continues to plummet, but I tell my five children that I expect 20 grandkids. I hope to make it past age 100 and meet 80 great-grandkids. Another thing I remember from my mother is that “You get what you expect!” This means my kids need an average of four. I’m drawn to alliteration and recently got stuck on “G.” This wisdom is free. Give it to your kids and grandkids if you’d like.
- First, God. God must be elevated above all else.
- Second, Grave. You must die to yourself and put the interests of others above your own.
- Third, Gratitude. You must be grateful in all circumstances.
- Fourth, Grit. You must grind to be successful.
- Last, Guy/Girl. If you choose to marry, you must marry someone who agrees with you on the first four.
I believe these twenty and eighty still unborn grandchildren and great-grandchildren will leave a mark on this world that people will remember. My job is to model as much wisdom and generosity as I possibly can. My offspring don’t need to remember my name, but they will know the wisdom of the giants who hold me up.
January 2025
