Today, I had to sit and wait for daughter #2 to finish up her art project after school. This was going to be my early day. I could come home right after school and rest, but she was absent last week and this was the final day to finish making the clay vase so the teacher could fire it and so she had to stay after. She said she would only be maybe 45 minutes so I ran after the boys, picked them up, dropping the older one at home and bringing the younger one to pick up my daughter. He wanted to come with me. After waiting an hour in the car for her (it took her about 2 hours to finish the project) he really didn't want to come pick her up anymore, I thought about all of the times my dad sat in the car waiting for me when I was a kid. There were probably 100 or more band practices and at least 50 hula lessons (yeah, I'm that good) and ballet lessons -- don't ask me to dance please--and after school projects and candy striper at the hospital and...the list goes on and on.
I'm sure I said thanks before, but I doubt I really meant it like I do this time. So, Dad, thanks for sitting there in the car, waiting for me all of those times. Thanks for not complaining when I took just a little bit longer, or had to go back in to find my jacket or clarinet or whatever I left behind. Thanks for giving me all of those opportunities as a kid.
I can never pay you back for those times, but I am paying them forward to my own kids and hope that I am half as patient as you were.