"A Kite With My Father"

A Kite With My Father

I'd like to share a story with you. Its about my father as seen through the eyes of his eldest son. Its one of those stories that sticks with you for a lifetime and periodically comes back to pay a visit.

That was the case last week. I was sitting bedside with my father.  He'd been off liquids and all life support for a couple of days and he was very weak. He was no longer speaking.and except for following me with eyes, he lay there motionless. He was slipping away from me..from us..from this world. My heart was very heavy with sadness, I didn't know what to say. It was then that this story came calling.It went something like this:

"Dad," I asked, "do you remember when we built the kite? It's a very fond memory for me. That kite taught me many lessons. I was about twelve years old and I'd been bugging you to build a kite.  Nothing grand, I had been thinking, small and simple, something along the lines of a thirty inch diamond shape with a long tail.  But it seems my pestering had awakened some passion in you; a kite flying virtuoso. A bold, dreamer; better yet, the engineer in you got all excited and decided to cut loose."

This brings us to:
 Lesson #1:  When Dad's spirit and his engineer teamed up, you can forget small and simple.  Not going to happen!

This was no longer just a kite.  This was "a project," requiring preparation, careful planning, and most of all..drawings. I winced when you got out the index cards and graph paper and went to work. "Oh no, not the graph paper!"

Lesson #2:  No shooting from the hip for Dad. Nope. Have a plan, Be methodical, and whenever possible, write it all out on index cards, or better yet..make a drawing!
I looked on as Dad made a sketch of something that didn't look anything remotely like a kite. It was an elongated cube; four feet tall, open in the middle, with a twelve inch band of fabric lining the top and bottom.  In Dad's engineer world, there was no place for a gangly tail, oh nooo, not when we could  "build stability into the design."  So, he added two BIG triangular wings.

Lesson #3:  There's a creative radical in Dad that comes out around KITES!

I remember the look as his face as he sketched away. He entered an enchanted world on Flights, Wonder and Imagination. A place of endless possibility where form was function, the sky truly was the limit. When he finished, he looked up triumphantly and announced: "It's a box kite; a "modified" box kite.

Lesson #4:  As a son, when you don't have a clue what's going on and things seem to be getting out of hand;  just sit tight, listen, watch and trust in the old man.  Also, index cards are a must.very versatile. You can use them to capture flights of fantasy as well to jot down to do lists.

Even at twelve, I could see this was no hour long project. NO way. Dad wouldn't stand for half measures or shoddy workmanship. We bought heavy red fabric, stout dowels, glue, twine and began assembly.  He measured and cut and I managed to get glue all over the place. The kite took form. We stretched the cloth over the frame as tightly as we could. Then he misted the kite with water to shrink the fabric in place.

Lesson #5:  The old man's pretty clever. Also, being patient, meticulous and taking pride in your work, doing your best, brings great rewards. Forty years later, I'm still working on this one.

We built a lot of ourselves into that kite. The unspoken tension between a father and son was stretched into that fabric. My deep desire to be with him; my eagerness to please him and my longing for his praise and blessings.  All this was neatly folded and glued into that kite. For his part, he built his hopes and dreams for me into that kite; for us to take flight and soar. His secret wish for great things to come; all those yearnings and expectations that are sensed, but never spoken between a father and son. This and more was built into that kite.  It's a wonder it ever got off the ground.

But fly it did. Three weeks later from the top of High School Hill. We launched her in all her glory. There was brisk autumn breeze and I could feel her tug hard as she climbed into the sky. Our tail less beauty flew magnificently. The line whizzed off the spool between my hands.  Up and Up she went, growing small and more splendid with each foot she gained. When suddenly.."SNAP!"  The line went limp as it fell lazily to the ground.  THIS CAN'T BE.  We had used index cards! Made a drawing and built stability into the design. And yet there she was, un-tethered, soaring off into the heavens.

Lesson #6:  The old man may be clever, BUT the unexpected still happens. Fate plays a role in  life that index cards and meticulous planning can't control.
I was beside myself. I wanted to set off in hot pursuit. Dad grinned and said "Say goodbye to your kite, Dave."

Sitting by Dad, watching his spirit tug and strain at the frail cord that held him here. I thought of that kite and all it stood for.  The dreams, plans, hopes, fears, joys and love of a father were passing away. Just as my twelve year old self had needed to bid farewell to the kite, I was now saying a final goodbye to its builder, My Dad. Once again, there was no possibility of hot pursuit. 

The time had come to let go.  Dad was set to leave this world and soar away.

Final Lesson:   The time will come when we have no choice but to let go.
Whatever happens, whether intentional and hoped for or unforeseen and unwanted, ALL will pass away. In time, the triumphs, defeats, joys and disappointments;  All the carefully glued seams of life fade away.

In the end, what matters most is not that the kite was built, or that it flew, or even that it broke free. What mattered most was that we did it together. It's the act of sharing your love that means the most.

We love you Dad.