Just Show Up

I divorced my parents when I was eighteen years old. There was no big issue, fight, or misunderstanding. I was just done. I did not harbor any anger or thirst for revenge or retribution. I was just done with them. I decided to go my own way. I would live my life and allow them to live theirs. 

When I graduated from high school I was offered a scholarship to play football in college. When I turned it down and joined the Marine Corps most of the people I knew thought I had lost my mind. My parents and girlfriend were particularly perturbed, but there was a reason I did not want to play football anymore that I did not share with any of them.

My father was a Holiness minister. One of the first bible verses I was taught was the first verse of the first chapter of Psalms, “Blessed is the man that does not walk in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stand in the way of sinners, nor sit in the seat of the scornful”. My father interpreted that as meaning it was sinful to attend or participate in sports. Since I started playing Little League baseball in fourth grade, I officially became a sinner at the age of nine. My father did not forbid me to play, but he made it clear that he would not be there to watch. The boycott would continue during my high school years. Not one football or basketball game did my parents see me play. Not one track meet did they attend. The coup de grace was when my parents refused to attend my Senior Night football game, when parents escorted their sons onto the field. I guess showing up for that wasn’t worth going to hell either.

When I thought about four more years of football in college, free education be damned, but I just didn’t want to do it without the support of my family.

I did my basic training at Parris Island, South Carolina. The place is famous for being the place where twelve weeks of Hell produces “The Few… The Proud… The Marines.” Those were easily the most physically and mentally demanding twelve weeks of my life. I graduated in the top ten percent of my platoon and was promoted to Private First Class. Graduation day was a spectacle. The entire battalion was on the parade deck doing close order drills, there were also bands and speeches. When we were dismissed for the last time there was about thirty seconds of pandemonium. People from the grandstand rushed out to the parade deck. There were yells, screams, hugs and kisses. Parents, wives, friends, and girlfriends were everywhere. I just stood there for a moment and watched everyone else, and then I walked back to the barracks, alone. I was eighteen, and I was a man.

Woody Allen once said, “Eighty per cent of life is just showing up”.

My mother and father passed away many years ago. If they were still alive I would not be writing these words today. I would not be doing it because I would not want to hurt them. I believe they did what they did because of their religious beliefs, and not because they wanted to hurt me.

Many years would pass before I would be able to even try to understand what happened to me as a child. I hope that someone will read this and realize what their simple presence can mean to their child.

When I was a Principal I kept that in mind when my students would ask me to attend their concerts, plays, dance performances, football, basketball, volleyball, and soccer games, swim meets, science fairs, and golf tournaments. I knew how important it was for them to have someone there, because I knew how important it was to me.

The most important thing a man can do for his child is to show up. Every day. Be there to listen, to comfort, to encourage, to reassure. Be there just in case. Be there to laugh, to clean a nose, to dry a tear. Be there to protect. Be there to give them a standing ovation.

Your child may not remember every time you were there, but they will not forget the time they needed you and you didn’t show up.