This kid -- behind this smile is a wealth of leadership and potential. I'm so blessed to be his father. Sometimes in these big moments that individuals share on the internet, the wrong message is projected. "Look at my life and how grand all the high points are! Everything is perfect here." Well, no one is perfect. We have our fair share of struggles in our household. Just last month, Gabriel fell out of a tree and broke his left arm. I wrote about it in his letter because I needed to reflect and understand how to better father my boys given my reaction. I am thankful that God has entrusted me with the gift of my eldest to teach me lessons. I still have so much to learn. ****From Letter's To My Sons**** You broke your arm this week. Clean break at the radius just under the scaphoid bone. I was so exhausted from such a brutal couple of weeks. All good, but brutal. No rest for the weary. Sometimes life is flat out, and that's just the way it's supposed to be. Don't let anyone fool you, you can't do that forever. "For everything there is a season". I’m not complaining. Just that so many things we’ve been praying for -- so many things -- they are all happening AT THE SAME TIME – AND everyday life continues moving forward. Cars have to be fixed, lights go out, chickens need to be fed, dentists need to be visited, hair needs to get cut, friends have a rough time and need to chat, we get sick and so does family, and laundry, groceries, dishes – none of it is going to do itself! So, I was tired. I laid on the couch at 3:45pm and mom brought you home from the car rider line. I had curled up on the couch for a power nap. Power naps are a super-power some parents acquire. Deep breathing on the edge of consciousness for 10-15 minutes, preferably in isolation in a dark room (though I've gotten pretty good at doing it anywhere). No doubt, by the time you're reading this, you've seen me do it a hundred times. “Hey dad, will you play with us?” “Yes, son. Let me lay here for like 10 minutes and I’ll be right out. I’m just tired” My head was pounding, I was still wrestling with the sinus junk, and I really hadn’t been sleeping well—stress and late night insight into the content I needed to create for one of the classes I'm teaching… 7 minutes into my ten minutes we heard you scream from the back yard. You were crying pretty hard. I jumped up and so did your mom (she was in the chair in the living room working diligently while I napped) You had fallen off of the rope ladder I had put on the tree 3 years ago and were holding your wrist. Now I know I have written a few times in previous letters about how you blow physical pain out of proportion dramatically and how you struggle not to be a weeny about scrapes and bruises sometimes. This was different. You knew it and I knew it. I was forceful. Partially because I was concerned and partially because you needed me to get your attention through the pain and fear of what just happened. “Gabriel, what happened.” “a;jf;aoiejg;goij” Your words were completely garbled because of how hard you were crying. “No. Gabriel, look at me. Breathe. I need to know what happened so I can help you. What hurts?” “My arm! I fell off of the ladder” “Ok. How did you fall. Did you land like this, or like this” I showed you wrist flexion and wrist extension. “I don’t know. It happened so fast!” You cried harder. “does anything else hurt?” “NO.” I immobilized your arm, picked you up and walked you to the porch. Then I sat you down and told you that I wasn’t going to hurt you on purpose but that I had to examine your wrist to see where it hurt. I pressed with my thumb lightly like the PA did a long time ago when I broke my wrist as a college student at Vandy. I remember her saying “I don’t think it’s broken because when I press there and it’s broken, usually people pull their hand back and flinch – ouch!” “It hurts like hell, Ms. I just thought you needed me to keep it still for you while you examined it”. She took my high pain tolerance to be evidence that I wasn’t hurting at all. Lesson there. Yours was broken too. But you still have the pain tolerance of a little boy. I asked you to breath and stop crying a moment so you could tell me where it hurt the worst. You looked me in the eyes and struggled to get your breathing to cooperate. Good. The pain was concentrated under your thumb. AND it hurt you to supinate (rotate via radioulnar joint). It was either scaphoid break or radius. I told your mom. “He definitely broke it. It’s starting to swell. We need to get him an x ray as soon as we’re able, splint it, and get him some motrin.” She used her phone to search around and call around to see who nearby was open and could take an x-ray without costing us a small fortune. I turned back to you and said, "Gabriel, you’ve likely broken a bone. This is going to hurt pretty bad like this for awhile. You’re going to need to buck up and get it together, buddy. Don’t be a weeny” I splinted you with a kitchen spatula and an ace bandage, then, You and mom shoved off. Bennett stayed with me and I needed to get him to bed in time to teach my class. I sat on the couch with him watching Trolls while I prepared for my class. I felt like a bad dad. I’m the one who installed the rope ladder in the first place. I’m the one who was too tired to play when you asked. I’m the one who was stern with you after you hurt yourself. (Who tells a kid not to be a weeny after he breaks a bone?) At the same time, though... You’ve never fallen off that thing in 3 years and you decided to wear rain boots while climbing. Asking your children to occupy themselves for 10 minutes while you rest shouldn’t be a big ask. You have screamed and cried so many times for so many lesser injuries that this was a teachable moment for you too. Your mom sent me the xray. It’s just what I thought. You got a cast and weren’t particularly thrilled about having to do things one-handed for awhile! Mom asked you what you wanted for dinner – you could have anything to cheer you up on the way home. A cheeseburger and ice cream. “You are SO your father’s child”. She said. That’s EXACTLY what I ate after I broke my wrist (Wendy’s double cheeseburger and a vanilla frosty). When you got home I was teaching my class so you just went to bed – It went well despite the many things that happened in the week - including your recent bone break - that were extremely distracting and tiring. Young fatherhood, business ownership, and manhood in general can be like that. Sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and show up even if you're distracted and tired. The next day, all your friends signed your cast. Eden, tucker, pryce, addie… You seemed to be doing well. I cuddled you before you slept and told you about all the times I got injured in my life. Sometimes I cried. And sometimes I didn't. I told you about how what hurt the most was not being able to do the things I love to do and while the physical pain was always hard to bear, it never hurt as bad as having to sit things out. “But having to sit things out taught me to be grateful for when I could do the things I love…and being in pain taught me to be deliberate, to look before I leap, and to learn patience and endurance in doing things despite the pain.” I didn’t apologize for telling you not to be a weeny. I’m not sure if I will or not. I’m still trying to figure out how to help you learn to bear suffering with courage and perseverance -- in the moment, its difficult to articulate with a crying child whom you know is making themselves more upset through rumination. I’m not sorry that I am dead set on teaching you that. You will need that someday. Something like - "I know it hurts. But you are more than the pain. Don't let yourself be defined by your pain". But what kid knows what that means? What adult knows what that means? I AM sorry that I’m not perfect at marrying your personality with the lesson in a way I can be at peace with yet. I'll keep working on it. Maybe that’s what I’ll tell you. Heal fast, little buddy. You'll be all better before you know it. -Love, Dad

Posted by Coach Alex VanHouten at 2022-03-18 15:51:51 UTC