As I planned an all-day trip last weekend with my
daughter, I remember going down a list of
"critical" projects that would have to wait for
another day: visiting my parents, a work project,
mowing the lawn, cleaning the house, getting some
much-needed exercise, and weeding the "jungle"
that was once our garden. All of these things
would have to be put on hold for awhile.
My daughter Sarah, her cousin Annie, and Annie's
father Bill and I went on a day trip to the
birthplace of Laura Ingalls Wilder in Pepin,
Wisconsin. It was a day of simple pleasures and
discussions about what frontier life must have
been like. The imaginations of our daughters were
soaring, and they had a day they'll remember
forever.
I think their fathers did, too.
And while we had a wonderful time, I'm aware that
this day almost didn't happen. This wonderful day
that will be etched in the mind of my daughter
forever almost didn't happen, because life almost
got in the way. I had almost given in to the
voices that told me that there were "too many
other things" that needed to be done.
All across this country fathers (and mothers) are
being squeezed by the demands of work and family.
Our free time each week to spend with our families
has steadily decreased. In a society that
continually promotes products that will save us
time, we have less time than ever before.
In her book, "Embracing Your Father, Building the
Relationship You Want with Your Dad," author Linda
Nielsen, Ed.D, points out some interesting
statistics:
Eighty percent of the fathers in our country earn
most of the money for their families.
Counting the time spent commuting, working, doing
house and yard work, and being with the kids, the
average father has 5 hours less free time each
week than the average employed mother.
On average, employed fathers work 10 more hours a
week than employed mothers.
Most fathers want to spend more time with their
kids but don't feel as though they can "afford"
it. And when they do spend more time with their
kids, they feel themselves falling behind in other
areas of their life. This "squeeze" can prevent us
from making the kinds of decisions that allow us
to be closer to our children.
Sarah bounded up the stairs after our trip, her
eyes beaming and wearing the Laura Ingalls Wilder
bonnet that I'd bought for her. As she jumped up
into my arms she said, "Thanks for the great day,
daddy, I love you."
As I lingered there for a moment after she'd left,
it all became clear to me. This day with my
daughter, this beautiful day, had been lumped in
with all the other "responsibilities" I have in my
life.
And it has no business being there.
It belongs in a place that's untouched by other
duties and responsibilities we face in our lives.
A place that we absolutely commit to and hold as
sacred. Because it's a place that will touch our
hearts like no other.
I think we can all afford to fall behind in our
other duties.
How about you?
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