I'm Never Moving...Again

 I’m NEVER Moving…Again

By John W. Vander Velden

Oh, I don’t know where I will spend all my remaining days.  It seems unlikely that I will stay at this location forever.  But the events of the past ten days have taught me an important lesson…I’m not moving. 

Our son’s achievements resulted in his location to a new state.  Beginning your career is a big deal and he was SO excited.  We should have known the drill, we had moved him before, three times before. But things were a bit different this time.  Distance for one thing and Nick, like all of us, had with the passing of time gathered “things”.  There were his things and there were “our” things.  So, it turned out for our good fortune that the things were divided so we needed to move less stuff each day.  On a Thursday, we rented a U-Haul and Jackie and I rumbled down the two hours to campus and near day’s end rumbled back…and unloaded our furniture.  My back will remind me for weeks that hauling a chest-of-drawers upstairs alone was a mistake.  It was only thirteen steps for crying out loud.  Once it would not have caused a sweat, well, maybe a sweat, but nothing more.  But now…the task was pure insanity.

On Monday we started early, drove that two hours to “college” town and rented the truck there.  Nick lived on the ground floor.  I had forgotten just how big a plus that was.  We had him loaded by noon.  A quick lunch and Jackie and I were on the road.

A truck driver would have thought driving a 15 foot U-haul a piece of cake, but I’m not a truck driver.  So interstates, bumper to bumper traffic at speed, and construction narrowed lanes made an interesting four and a half hours.  It must have been crowding five when we entered a really nice quiet apartment complex and the _____ began.

Yes, I knew that the ground floor in West Lafayette simplified things, but…

Nick has a really nice apartment on the THIRD floor.  Oh by the way, did I mention the six flights of stairs.  I GUESS NOT!  I had help…thank goodness.  And Nick handled the heavy…downward ends…but I’m never doing that again…I MEAN NEVER!

It was after eight when I nearly passed out.  Upper eighties and 114+% humidity, with a thunderstorm on its way.  Maybe it was the heat, OK the heat didn’t help.  Maybe it was not eating for nearly nine hours, likely, my sugars had to be in the basement.  Maybe it was all of the above, but my world spun and things began to get dark.

Food!  There are times when it is EXTREMELY necessary to take the time.  Microwaves, and frozen stuff can be lifesavers…

We nearly beat the storm.  I did say NEARLY.  But we got the truck unloaded.

No matter how much stuff you have, you need something.  A Target run provide a couple of vitals so Nick could make the night.  Steak and Shake fed us…officially.  It was well after 11:00 when the U-haul found its way to the hotel where Jackie and I would rest our weary, and in my case “OLD” bones.

But through it all I learned an important lesson.  I’M NEVER MOVING AGAIN!   

(544 Words) 5-25-2018

What Parents Do...

What Parents Do…

By John W. Vander Velden

My mind is reeling.  It would be no surprise the events of last weekend, including Nick’s graduation, and preparations for his move, fill my mind to bursting.  So for this week’s post I offer some of my personal thoughts. 

We spent a few hours wandering the campus with Nick on Friday last.  Hard to imagine that he has spent so much time at the university, and it was the first time Jackie and I entered the Mechanical Engineering Building.  So our son showed us the senior projects that were on display, including his.  He took us to some of the lecture halls the computer lab and much of the world that had been his over the last five years.

We made the trip back to West Lafayette on Saturday, for pictures.  Those that know me understand how often my Nikon is found dangling around my neck.  So though the light was just plain terrible with the constant threat of rain, we walked miles and I did my best to capture Nick and “his” school.  Someday perhaps those images will mean something special to him…they mean something special to me.

As we raced about the central portion of the campus with Nick in his black robe and his gold stole, he was careful to keep his orange tassel on the right side, and not cross under the bell tower.  Superstitions and traditions blend in ways not always logical.  But underclassmen do not cross under the tower until they hold their signed diploma.  For five years Nick has made certain he never did, and Saturday was the last day he would take those few extra steps to go around the tower’s base.

We met up with Jackie’s nephew and family on that photo shoot.  Having driven from South Carolina, their company was an extra bonus.  Nick showed them about the

Nick spending a few moments with John Purdue and
his cousin Stephen

campus, as we dodged raindrops.

Sunday.  What can I say?  Our day started early.  We reached Nick’s apartment by seven and made the long walk to the Armory.  It was there we left him for a time surrounded by a sea of black capes mulling about in the early morning sun.  It is hard to describe a father’s thoughts as he watched the child he witnessed enter this world surrounded by so many others that began their lives in much the same way.  But your head tells you, those soon to graduate are not children any longer, but young men and women, that like Nick are ready to begin the next part of their lives, but your heart will not allow you to believe.  You remember the road that has at last led us all here…all the stumbles…all the achievements…all the ordinary days that matter the most.  You look on and wonder how we have reached this point.  You wonder what new challenges lie ahead for him, and pray he will face them and persevere.   You pray that he finds the success he seeks and that in some way he finds the happiness that he deserves…just as he has given a happiness to his mother and father all these years.

The Hall of Music is a grand space.  We sat there, and by chance, found ourselves in perfect seats.  With a name like Vander Velden he was not among the first to parade past.  There must have been four hundred or more soon to be engineers that walked at my elbow before Nick’s turn arrived. I saw him, standing tall in pride with the gleam of excitement in his eyes.  Five hard years and five Co-op rotations in his wake.  All the work and moments that led to this achievement…Nick’s graduation…on Mother’s Day 2018.

Did the world stop to take a breath?  Not likely.  But Jackie’s and mine did…for a moment…just the briefest of time…we found ourselves between what was and what would be.

I think that most parents feel the same way.  At graduation we never consider our costs that have helped our child.  No we see the significance of a change in a way that no other is able.  We bite our lip locking emotions in places from which they scream to be released.  But it is not the time…it is not our time, but Nick’s.  And we do nothing to take away even the slightest glory he so richly deserves.

That’s what parents do.  That’s what parents always do.

(730 Words)  5-18-2018







At last he could walk through the clock tower.

Congratulations Nicholas John Vander Velden
2018 Graduate Purdue University School of Mechanical Engineering

Spring Brings Changes

Spring Brings Changes

By John W. Vander Velden

It seems that spring has really arrived and with it comes changes.  A sure sign that the weather has changed is the grass.  It’s green for one thing and it’s growing like crazy for another.  It seems to be making up for the time it waited dormant.  If you don’t like mowing you would have been pleased with April, but May has sent us into extra innings already.

The trees are filling with new leaves, fresh and green, the fruit trees are in bloom.  I see lilacs in full flower, yes, spring is bursting out at last, and it brings changes.

But nature is not the only thing that announces that the summer grows near.  Sunday is not only Mother’s Day but also Nick’s graduation.  Our son has completed this stage of his education, and a university degree is something that set’s his parents’ minds reeling.  But I remember when he graduated from John Glenn High School.  I remember facing the changes that meant.  Certainly Nick faced significant alterations to his life, but to me his father it seemed more of an ending than a beginning.  For though I was proud of the accomplishment, and I was rooting for his future successes, I understood that my day to day involvement was ending.  My little boy, the child I had watched enter the world, learn to walk, whose hand I held as we braved the Atlantic Ocean’s waves, the boy I cheered from the stands, was becoming a man.

When we settled him into his dorm, it was more than his leaving for the first time, I understood he was never coming back…not in the way things had been…always had been…again.  Now he has lived on his own for five years.  Between time at Purdue, and his five rotations of Co-oping he has proved his ability to “live” on his own.  I am proud of that too.

It has been a difficult five years for our son.  Achieving a degree in engineering from Purdue University is not an easy task.  Learning and negotiating a way to live under the pressures of campus and classes, is a difficult education of its own.  But it has not been easy on those left behind either.  We have watched from two hours away, seen only the snippets he has shared with us.  We had worried as much about his grades as he did.  But parents worry about other things as well, about diet, about the amount of sleep he’s getting, about the friends he has.  We worry if all the “stuff” that makes up college life isn’t too much for a young man to face.  Parent’s worry.  That’s in the job description.

He’s graduating on Mother’s Day.  It is easy to see the success but not easy for us to ignore the significance.  A parent’s purpose is to prepare their child for life.  Graduations are a symbols of success in that area.  They are also a signpost of changes.  I am proud of my son…but I miss the child of my memory.  But that’s OK.  It’s a good sign that I have those special memories.  It is a good sign that I am forced to watch Nick take flight.  It is a good sign that he will soar beyond my vision.  But though his wings will take him far from me, he will never be beyond the reach of my heart.  That’s a good sign too. It is a good sign that he is capable of independence, but always knows that his mother and I will be available…to talk…and when the need arises…to help.

I know that Nick is no longer a child…that the boy that once rattled about in our home has become a man…and I am proud of the man he has become.  The man that will be moving even further away to a new career and home out of state.

Pride and tears…there is a place for both…this weekend…  As we are once more reminded that spring brings changes…

(675 Words)  5-11-2018

 

Self-reliance

Self-reliance              

By John W. Vander Velden

 

I think self-reliance is an admirable quality, but, in truth, none of us achieve complete independence.  No matter how we strive to “deal with it” on our own, sooner or later we find that help is needed one way or the other.  Yet many of us strive to “take on the world” all by ourselves.  Hmmmmmmm….

This comes to the forefront of my mind because my son approaches an important milestone, his college graduation.  And having a degree opens doors he has yearned to step through.  Nick is very ready, mentally, to begin his life.  I am certain he feels that all the years of schooling are just that…schooling, and now the real “stuff” can begin.  There is a bit of truth to that…but just a bit.  For our lives start, at the beginning, even before our earliest memories.  Life is about steps taken…doors pass through…ordinary days and the extra ordinary ones.  Life is about living and it is made up of all the days we are given…including our youth and ALL the years of our education.

Yesterday Nick signed a lease agreement for an apartment out of state.  He moves soon.  He has done all the leg work, the research, the correspondence, the driving, the paying, on his own, and I respect him for that.  It is a sign of his self-reliance.  Nick has the need to prove himself, to his parents perhaps, but to himself mostly.  People tell me that he needs this job in another state to build his independence.  I just shake my head and think he has been independent for five years, living on his own, only reaching out for help in the most dire of emergencies…it practically never happens.  He would scarcely be more independent if he lived on the moon!

He’ll be living five or six hours away…not too far I suppose, but it hurts.  His self-reliance breaks our hearts.  Not because we do not want him to stand on his own two feet, but rather our mind clings to the time when he didn’t need to.  I think that is the crux of it.  As parents it is hard for us to accept the change in roles that we face.  Nick’s independence and self-reliance are signs of a “cord” cut that can never be knotted together in the same way again.  We stand quietly and watch as he takes a divergent road knowing that we are left behind…spectators…proud to be certain, but spectators all the same.

Nick is not the only one that will see a grand change in his life.

We want Nick to be self-reliant.  We want him to be independent.  We want him to live his own productive life.  Yet as we see our own involvement shrinking, we smile while feeling left behind…even though being left behind was the goal in the first place. 

There is something to be said about goals, of planning, of succeeding.  But with anything gained a price must be paid, and only parents understand the price of their child’s self-reliance.

 (510 Words)  4-11-2018

 

Beneath the Mason Jar

Beneath the Mason Jar       

By John W. Vander Velden

 

It is only natural that we wish to be spared the difficult, the dirty, the painful parts of life.  The years pile up and we often dwell on the pain and disappointments in our wake.  Yet we understand that life is like that.  There are tough times in everyone’s existence.  We have dealt with all manner of hard things and endured, so surely we can deal with the tough times ahead.  Hard times can’t be helped.  It’s just the way things are.

But all bets are off when we become parents.  We become like mother hens doing our best to protect our brood, keeping them safe beneath our wings, and to shelter them from all the difficulties and disappointments that come their way.  We want to keep them in a safe bubble, like young tomato plants beneath the Mason jars.

Mom was a gardener, but she was an old world gardener.  Her gardens were compact, each inch vital.  But just down the road from where I grew up, Mr. Buss had a gigantic garden.  Mr. Welcome Buss always had time for curious kids from the neighborhood.  He set his tomato plants out early.  Tiny things beneath canning jars.  The mason jars acted like mini greenhouses, protecting the fragile plants from frost, wind, and even the driving rains, in other word, protecting them from the world.

But though the plants thrived within their glass bottle home, they would soon fill the space and find themselves trapped.  However Mr. Buss took away those jars long before the leaves began to press against the sides.  He told us shielded that way, the plant stretched within its protected environment, and if he waited too long the stem would have no strength to survive, simply falling over or breaking with the first wind.

It’s that way with our kids.  We would like to seal them away from all the bad things in the world.  To keep them in a strong plastic bubble separated from disease, pain, and of course loss.  And there is a time when they are most vulnerable, like small tomato plants, but like the tomato, the time comes when they must be exposed to LIFE.  For just like those plants Mr. Buss grew more than fifty years ago, our children cannot become strong enough to endure the tribulations of the everyday, if they have too long been spared exposure to the wind and rain.

We do not take away the Mason jar in one quick motion, like the gardener, but we as parents begin to step back little by little.  We give those small ones we love a space where, though not out of reach of pain, we maintain a filter of just how much pain we allow.  The years pass and the space grows larger and our protection wanes.  We continue to stand as near as we dare, while offering young wings the room to fly, always ready to reach in to support and, in need, to protect.

I have had many tasks throughout my years, but none as difficult as being a parent.  For I would wish to keep my son beneath the Mason jar, but know to do would be to fail him.  And the knowing the best way not to failing him…that’s the hardest part.  So I struggle.  I walk an invisible line between the protector and the observer.  Even now the jar has not been completely removed.  Perhaps it will have some presence as long as I have breath.  But I step back a bit year by year.  The line I walk drifts further toward the observer.  And I follow that line not out of self-concerns but forcing myself to allow him to gain the strengths he needs.  It is difficult, but I would not want my son to be like a tomato plant trapped beneath a mason jar…

(643 Words)  11/1/2017

 

 

Thoughts of Parenting

Thoughts of Parenting        

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

My thoughts go back to Jackie’s first Mother’s Day.  As that day approached she had only one wish…that Nick would come home from the hospital.  Such a simple sentiment, yet it underscores the significance of that emotional time of our lives, and the willing sacrifice a parent makes.  The bond between parent and child is complex.  The binding begins before birth and though many a child would like that cord severed, for most parents the depth of that connection is life long.  Only parents can understand…and not all do.  A grown child might assume that he or she knows what being a parent means…but it’s impossible.  You must be a parent…a real connected parent…to begin the process of learning all the subtle shades of that duty.

Anxiety comes with the task.  The level varies from high to lower but never leaves.  How can you not worry?  Our years bring pains and disappointments that we hated.  How can we not wish to isolate our child…the focus of our lives…from all the difficulties that living has?  Of course it is impossible.  Of course the hard times builds strength.  Of course overcoming failures builds character.  And we wish these things for our son…but…does it have to be as hard on him as it was on us.

Parents sign on to an important obligation.  I wish all parents recognized that. But we didn’t know what it meant…really.  No one does.  So that even now, twenty-nine years later, we struggle unsure of our role.  We learn by doing, but we had been fortunate to have had good parents, so our tool chest has a few helpful pieces.  Yet the world is in flux.  And so we wonder, doubt ourselves constantly as we trudge onward, one day at a time.

Does it get easier?  Yes and no.  Perhaps the load seems lighter because we have carried so long.  Perhaps the years have hardened our nerve endings.  Perhaps we force ourselves to give a little space…then a little more…hoping our young bird flies true.  But we continue to worry that lessons we have taught have “stuck”.  That the moral code that holds our life together…the very base of it at least, resides within his heart.  For truth can be shown…but I don’t believe it can be taught…it has to be felt to become real.  And what is obvious to me, might not be so clear cut to him.

There are times I feel that Nick is on a raft being carried downstream on swift waters.  I run along the riverbank watching, shouting warnings, and instructions, but the roar of the river quashes my voice.  I push through brambles, trip over tree roots and rock, doing my best to keep abreast of the son on the river…and he doesn’t even notice.  I guess that’s my best description of parenting.

You see I can’t move the rocks and snags out of the river ahead of him.  I can’t change the speed the water races along.  I cannot prevent any disaster that lies ahead.  I have come to the point that all I can do is hope I taught him enough skills to handle the raft when he faces these things.  How well he handles the adversities of life will be the measure of the man he has become.  And it is by that measure, my role as parent will at last become apparent…its good or its lacking.  It is for others to judge…and ultimately GOD’s.  For HE alone placed that responsibility in my hands…a responsibility I take seriously to this day. 

Each day I pray for my son.  That’s part of my being his parent.  I pray that he remains safe and well.  I pray that he does not abandon TRUTH as he searches for answers to simpler questions.  I pray that he finds his way, and knows he has NEVER wandered alone.  I pray he understands that love is more than ANY thing.  That love comes in many forms, but in the end, love’s only source is GOD.  I pray he recognizes the importance of family, and never forgets the ROCK SOLID foundation on which we stand. 

It seems a lot to expect, in a world of shifting sand and doubting minds.  A world where old truths are cast aside without a second thought.  In a world that seemed filled with a “me first” mindset…let the other guy take care of himself.  Yet somewhere amid the turbulence amid the chaos I remain optimistic.  For I know that the truth remains…TRUE.  And I believe Nick will find the truth.  I have to, you see, I’m a parent…it comes with the turf….

(791 Words) 5-13-2017

 

 

 

Brave New Wings

                         

By John W. Vander Velden

 

I remember watching young swallows as they grew.  During the summers of my youth as I cleaned the milk barn, I would look up to the two or three nests that had been built upon the planking.  How quickly the young birds grew and soon filled the small space, their home.  Then suddenly they would leave the only place they had known, on untried but brave new wings. 

Events in our household reminded me of those summers long ago…it reminded me of the young swallow’s first flights.  For our son faces a new and grand adventure…one for which we as parents hope he is prepared.  He stands on the very brink with feigned confidence, not daring to show anything less. It seems ignorance and optimism, powerful allies for those that leave all they have known behind.   For the unknown that lies ahead has long been anticipated.  And just as the swallow that has never flown does not doubt in its ability, our son is prepared to leap.  For the nest has become too small and the great wide world awaits.  What lies ahead none knows…that remains the challenge that each face, young and old.  We each should remember when we confronted challenges and the possibilities seemed endless.  We each should remember the time when we felt fearless and knew failure impossible.  These are the things I need to consider as I watch Nick while he prepares to venture into a new world, on brave new wings.

(249 Words)

In the Dark

In the Dark

By John W. Vander Velden

He walks quietly in the dark, moving about his living room during the small hours. He is not alone.  For a small bundle within his arms, a newborn, causes the sleeplessness…the pacing…the rocking…but no regrets.  A price gladly paid.  The hours his shift, as at last his beloved has gone to her rest.  Eyes centered upon the infant, even in the darkened room enough visible to bring a smile.  He understands fatigue a temporary problem, soon, perhaps too soon, these hours only a memory.  With practiced slow sways a child quiet yet not asleep the task not complete…not yet.  He considers the small wonder as he moves among the shadows, how lives forever changed.  New responsibilities…new perspectives…changed dreams…immeasurable joy.  Humming softly as swaying he settles into a chair…soft breathing…tiny heartbeat…fills his attention...at that moment there is nothing more.  What has this bundle done to cause such devotion?  Only a parent understands.  Love a commodity un-purchasable, a binding stronger than steel or blood, for the man in the dark, a cord unbreakable.  Blinking sleepy eyes and a stifled yawn, well rehearsed his actions, as strong arms tenderly hold the child most fragile.  Later, how much he is uncertain, the small one asleep, yet he refuses to surrender.  With foggy mind and content heart he remains…just a little while longer…in the dark.  

(232 Words)