One Balanced Life

A friend recently gave me a gallon of paint close to the color I was thinking of painting the dining room and I thought today is a perfect day to slap it on. I come from a long line of painters...my dad, my grandpa, and so on. I have painted every room in our house at least twice and sometimes more when I get a wild hair. I am pretty efficient but thought I'd see if I could coax my dad into helping (he is amazingly fast and accurate). As he ages I can tell is a little more hesitant to take on my projects (he has helped demo and remodel our basement, painted the kitchen twice, and the outside of the house...and those are a few). Thankfully he said yes! And in keeping with my theme of "connecting" I thought I'd multitask and not only paint (which I happen to think is a form of meditation) and just be present with him.

My dad was born on a farm without a doctor present. He didn't talk until he was three and ended up on a full-ride scholarship to Darthmouth. He took two pairs of pants and two white shirts and promptly came home after a semester - he didn't feel like he fit in. He has done just about everything from painting/construction work, greenhouse work, driving trucks, a college professor, and eventually the head of a union. He is frighteningly bright and has begun to express his creativity in recent years. I sometimes forget how amazing he is.

My dad has patiently taught me calculus, plant identification, sheetrocking, framing, how to build a what he calls an Indian fire (not a white man fire), how to "be" in nature, the difference in gauges for model railroads, his beliefs about marriage, and how to paint without needing to tape the room off. Today we talked about his dad - who at 17 in 1927 left the farm in Iowa to hitchhike to California to explore. These are some of my favorite stories - how my grandpa starting walking the dirt roads to explore the world. He went to CA and NY and ended up coming home to help on the farm where he stayed. The stories about my dad's life on the farm and the challenges my grandfather and grandmother faced. Today he looked around the room and said "Mom would've called this Wedgewood Blue." I thought about how my grandparents had been married for a billion years and died within two weeks of each other - without knowing the other had passed (although they obviously knew).

I realize this post is rambling and I am a little teary but it was wonderful to slow down today and really be present with my father. I am deeply grateful for his "stories" and for his guidance. I know I am lucky to have him. And dang he makes quick work of painting a room.

To deepen your connections to others and yourself I encourage you to listen. Slow down to be present to really hear the stories of the ones you love - your parents, sisters, partners, and kids.

 What a gift.