The other day my daughter, Marisa, texted me that “I think I’m realizing more everyday how much I’m like you”. We had been talking about how easily our 7 hour drive to drop her off at college had gone by because the conversation never stopped. I come from a family of talkers. My mother once told of the time my dad and his brother were sitting at the kitchen table talking one night. She was falling asleep so went to bed. When she came back down the next morning she found them still in mid conversation. I talk with my brothers for hours at a time.
As much as I enjoy conversation with others, I also enjoy the silent times when I can spend time with my own thoughts -- and Marisa saying how much she is like me brought many thoughts to me:
“. . . wow - it’s pretty special to have a daughter see herself in me. . . “
“. . . nice - the music traditions will continue. . . “
“. . . yikes - I’ve always wanted the best for her -- is she going to inherit all the things I’m not so crazy about myself. . . ?”
The amazing thing is that all summer I kept thinking about how Marisa’s journey as she begins college was going to start like mine did over 35 years ago. My brother Dave, our friend Cameron and I drove down to Southern California to explore the idea of joining the Salesians, an order in the Catholic Church. I’m sure to many, the idea of going off to a religious group sounds rather unique -- perhaps even strange! For me, however, I was just like many 18 year olds -- excited to be starting a new chapter in my life, following something that I believed in.
So there we were, Dave, Cam and I driving down Highway 5 from the Canadian border. I had just spend the summer driving a motor boat at Camp near Lac Ste. Anne, Alberta so I remember being excited everytime we saw a motor boat being pulled down the highway. It seemed like the further south we went, the boats got bigger and more plentiful so that by the time we reach the Grapevine, we’d stopped being impressed with the next Evinrude speedboat passing our station wagon.
After driving the last miles through LA, we ended up at De Sales Hall, the Salesian residence in Bellflower. We’d spent many hours talking on the road talking about how we were going to change the world -- but it turned out that the first major impact we had to make was to clean up the piles of dishes left by the summer program. Not only did we have to deal with unknown substances that had been baked to the plates and bowls by the Southern California heat, we also had to get rid of the hundreds of tiny ants that had discovered free meals.
The Salesians ran the residence where we stayed, but we were expected to attend outside colleges, so after a few weeks of settling in, classes began at the local community college -- which we liked to call “UCLA - University of Cerritos, Left on Alondra”. Transportation to class was on a donated bike (I immediately made plans to bring down my Sekine 10 speed from Edmonton on my next trip) that was really more of a collection of random bike parts put together by some industrious hoarder. To make that first day even more exciting, I managed to cut off a cop car while driving out of the driveway onto Bellflower Blvd. He was not impressed and promptly wrote out a ticket for more than the bike was worth.
In spite of the ant and bike incident - those two years in Bellflower were all that a young man could hope for as he began a new journey. There were deep talks late into the night with classmates as we worked out the solutions to the problems of the world. I laughed like I had never laughed before when we all went out to see the new hit movie, Airplane. We got to know the young people in The Upper Room - making friends that would remain for years to come. Quiet moments in the Chapel brought me a sense of peace knowing that I was where God wanted me.
Now, all these years later, my daughter is making a similar trip. Her path is her own, yet I know she will stay up late in the night trying to solve the problems of the world with new friends, she will laugh at silly TV shows on her iPhone and I believe she and her room mates have begun a roach and spider count in their crowded dorm. For her Dad, it’s a bittersweet moment. I’m so proud of the amazing young woman starting on her journey and yet sad to see the little girl I once held in my arms waving goodbye as I continue my journey back home.
No comments:
Post a Comment