On Father's Day, June 20, Mitch Albom wrote a very compelling column in the Detroit Free Press entitled “Father's Day needs more real fathers.” He mentioned the large percentage of those “who are more sperm donors than fathers, shirking the consequences of careless unprotected sex, making parents out of those unwilling and sometimes unable to responsibly bring a child into the world.”
Mitch pointed out that most Father's Day columns “culminate in an appreciation of the man, something sweet he always did, something wise he always said, some love he always showed.” He warned that his was not one of those columns.
Were I to encourage you to read Mitch's column the way I did, I would urge you to think of another void which is becoming a new trend on Father's Day. It is not the numbers of children lacking a father on Father's Day, but a Father's Day in Detroit and surrounding areas where fathers mark that particular day with their children by calling, texting, skyping and emailing - sending love to distant places due to insufficient jobs and opportunities right here at home. My own personal experience was shared by many friends whose kids also live in distant places and were unable to “come home" for a Father's Day celebration.
Let me say that, as with most parents, our kids’ happiness is first and foremost. I can honestly state that each of our kids - Ari, Ashley and Milo in Chattanooga; Chad and girlfriend Whit in Eugene, Oregon; and Stephanie and boyfriend Zack in Olympia, Washington - each are at great places in their lives with successful careers and great relationships. Their choices for residency spoke volumes about what they saw as a lack of opportunity in their hometown. Each visit home is highlighted by the frustration that, while visiting mom and dad, there are few high school friends left to hang out with. Their friends also found little workplace opportunities in the community where they were raised.
I watch the exodus of those who leave the city. Because their kids don't live here, their choice of end of life decisions reflect the perception that Detroit is no longer considered home. I do not pretend to have a solution to this alarming situation, but I am deeply concerned for our community. Unless we can attract our kids with meaningful career possibilities here, we will lose more than great talent we spend so much love, time and energy developing.
Showing posts with label Father's Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Father's Day. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Monday, June 22, 2009
Updating my Dad
As Father's Day approached and the 29th anniversary of my Dad’s death is about six weeks away, I was thinking about bringing him up to date over lunch. The conversation might go as follows:
As Father's Day approached and the 29th anniversary of my Dad’s death is about six weeks away, I was thinking about bringing him up to date over lunch. The conversation might go as follows:
“How's my cute little grandson Ari doing?”
“Ari was 16 months old when you died, Dad and he's now 30, married, expecting his first child, our first grandchild and your first great-grandchild.”
“What does he do to support himself?”
“He and your other grandson Chad, who’s 28, own a golf club manufacturing company called Scratch Golf. They started it from scratch and have become a force in the golf industry worldwide.” I envision my dad smiling from ear to ear, not only for their apparent success, but having two Techners successfully working together.
“Just the two boys?"
“No, Dad. We also have Stephanie. She's 23, has her degree in Sustainable Agriculture, manages a farm and she and her boyfriend have dreams of owning their own farm.”
“Does she even look like her mother?”
“Hard to tell their high school graduation pictures apart.”
“Your mother must be proud.”
“Yes, Dad, she was proud. Mom died peacefully six years ago after a decade-long battle with Alzheimers. She loved those kids.”
I would then tell him of his other two sons – my brothers – his four more grandchildren and how each is in a very good place. He would have been so happy to know the Techner name was going strong.
“Dad, brace yourself with this news. This country just elected its first black President. Gas is at $3.00 a gallon, down from $4.00 a gallon last summer. Remember General Motors? It’s in bankruptcy court and was taken off the New York Stock Exchange because the value of its stock no longer warrants a place on the exchange. Chrysler is also in bankruptcy, but it looks like Fiat's going to own them. Oh, and Merrill Lynch, the company that handled your stocks, is gone. Bunches of banks and insurance companies have imploded - the government’s trying to save them by pumping a couple hundred billion their way to save them -that's billion with a B.”
Dad asks me about the device was on the table. “It's a cell phone, Dad. I can virtually call anyone anywhere in the world on it. Oh, I can also email and send texts all over the world. It's really pretty handy.”
“Where's the wire to hook it up?”
“That's why they call it a cell.”
I can see he is overwhelmed. I want to tell him about 9/11, but what is the point? I just hope that, knowing we are all well, he can rest in peace, assured that his legacy to his family is safe.
“Ari was 16 months old when you died, Dad and he's now 30, married, expecting his first child, our first grandchild and your first great-grandchild.”
“What does he do to support himself?”
“He and your other grandson Chad, who’s 28, own a golf club manufacturing company called Scratch Golf. They started it from scratch and have become a force in the golf industry worldwide.” I envision my dad smiling from ear to ear, not only for their apparent success, but having two Techners successfully working together.
“Just the two boys?"
“No, Dad. We also have Stephanie. She's 23, has her degree in Sustainable Agriculture, manages a farm and she and her boyfriend have dreams of owning their own farm.”
“Does she even look like her mother?”
“Hard to tell their high school graduation pictures apart.”
“Your mother must be proud.”
“Yes, Dad, she was proud. Mom died peacefully six years ago after a decade-long battle with Alzheimers. She loved those kids.”
I would then tell him of his other two sons – my brothers – his four more grandchildren and how each is in a very good place. He would have been so happy to know the Techner name was going strong.
“Dad, brace yourself with this news. This country just elected its first black President. Gas is at $3.00 a gallon, down from $4.00 a gallon last summer. Remember General Motors? It’s in bankruptcy court and was taken off the New York Stock Exchange because the value of its stock no longer warrants a place on the exchange. Chrysler is also in bankruptcy, but it looks like Fiat's going to own them. Oh, and Merrill Lynch, the company that handled your stocks, is gone. Bunches of banks and insurance companies have imploded - the government’s trying to save them by pumping a couple hundred billion their way to save them -that's billion with a B.”
Dad asks me about the device was on the table. “It's a cell phone, Dad. I can virtually call anyone anywhere in the world on it. Oh, I can also email and send texts all over the world. It's really pretty handy.”
“Where's the wire to hook it up?”
“That's why they call it a cell.”
I can see he is overwhelmed. I want to tell him about 9/11, but what is the point? I just hope that, knowing we are all well, he can rest in peace, assured that his legacy to his family is safe.
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