Pat Nason and his beloved guitar
The kids are grown, with their own agendas -- much as their mom had when she struck out on her own some years ago.
So now, with time to myself, I'm picking up the guitar again.
It had been sitting in the closet, in a dark corner way in the back, for years. Imagine that. There was a time I played every day and couldn't conceive a day ever would come when I'd put it down and never pick it up again. Now there it was, stuffed deep in the closet behind a couple of pairs of shoes that should have been discarded years ago. Why in the world was I hanging on to them? Thrift, I guess.
Unlike those shoes, I'm not ready for the discard pile. It's not as though the kids don't still need me. They do -- just not every 10 minutes, the way they did before autonomy set in and they got drivers' licenses and jobs and their own money. Talk about a game changer!
It did not occur to me 40 years ago -- when I was passing through a stage of development similar to what my son and daughter are experiencing -- that my mom and dad might in any way be relieved when I set out on my own, even though I was the youngest of nine and the last to leave home.
Just as my mom made it clear she'd prefer I remain a little longer, I'd love it if my daughter were still here with me. But she is following her course and I'm doing my best to hold to a commitment I made long to ago to let my kids make their own choices in life. It's their job to climb and reach out -- my job was to teach them what I could and then stay close enough to catch them if they fall. That's worked out pretty well so far.
My son -- I call him "the big one" -- is still in the house with me but his life and mine don't intersect nearly as much as when he was a little guy and we did everything together. I miss that time, that closeness -- in some ways it's as if he is already out on his own.
But that's always been the deal with parents and children, hasn't it?
Kids come into your life relatively suddenly and before anyone realizes it everyone involved begins preparing for separation, even as we make the most of the time we have with one another. Sometimes it seems the parent-child relationship is organized mostly around negotiating terms for the inevitable dissolution of the household. It's maybe not so pleasant to face sometimes but it has to be done.
So, yes, I miss the kids. At the same time, I no longer have to share my car with my daughter and there is a lot to be said for having both hands free pretty much full time. That is to say, it's not entirely a bad deal for dad. It must have been narcissism that allowed me to think there was no possible upside for my folks when I left. But I did leave, taking my trusty guitar with me.
I actually retrieved "old trusty" from storage and played it every so often for about a year before I came into all this free time that allows me to play every day. When I pulled it out I was a little sad and ashamed to see the strings were rusty. Fortunately, the instrument itself -- a Yamaha FG 200 six-string acoustic -- was still in very good condition. And why wouldn't it be? It had been stored in a cool, dark place, sheltered from direct sunlight, rain and all the other elements. A fresh set of strings, a little wood polish and it would sound as good as new. Getting my playing back to where it once was -- to where I want it to be from here on -- is an entirely different matter.
But there is time for that and although I'm not a big believer in fate or coincidence, it seems -- given a number of events that have followed -- this is a very good time to pick up the guitar again and play. So far it's turned out to be a lot of fun and -- to my surprise -- something of an adventure. [rc]
© 2009 United Press International, Inc.
October 7, 2009
USA: Empty Nest - Where's that old guitar?
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LOS ANGELES, California / United Press International / Odd News / October 7, 2009
By Pat Nason
The nest isn't necessarily empty just because the kids leave -- after all, dad is still there, with time and opportunity for pursuits that have been on hold for, let's face it, a generation.
Pat Nason and his beloved guitar
The kids are grown, with their own agendas -- much as their mom had when she struck out on her own some years ago.
So now, with time to myself, I'm picking up the guitar again.
It had been sitting in the closet, in a dark corner way in the back, for years. Imagine that. There was a time I played every day and couldn't conceive a day ever would come when I'd put it down and never pick it up again. Now there it was, stuffed deep in the closet behind a couple of pairs of shoes that should have been discarded years ago. Why in the world was I hanging on to them? Thrift, I guess.
Unlike those shoes, I'm not ready for the discard pile. It's not as though the kids don't still need me. They do -- just not every 10 minutes, the way they did before autonomy set in and they got drivers' licenses and jobs and their own money. Talk about a game changer!
It did not occur to me 40 years ago -- when I was passing through a stage of development similar to what my son and daughter are experiencing -- that my mom and dad might in any way be relieved when I set out on my own, even though I was the youngest of nine and the last to leave home.
Just as my mom made it clear she'd prefer I remain a little longer, I'd love it if my daughter were still here with me. But she is following her course and I'm doing my best to hold to a commitment I made long to ago to let my kids make their own choices in life. It's their job to climb and reach out -- my job was to teach them what I could and then stay close enough to catch them if they fall. That's worked out pretty well so far.
My son -- I call him "the big one" -- is still in the house with me but his life and mine don't intersect nearly as much as when he was a little guy and we did everything together. I miss that time, that closeness -- in some ways it's as if he is already out on his own.
But that's always been the deal with parents and children, hasn't it?
Kids come into your life relatively suddenly and before anyone realizes it everyone involved begins preparing for separation, even as we make the most of the time we have with one another. Sometimes it seems the parent-child relationship is organized mostly around negotiating terms for the inevitable dissolution of the household. It's maybe not so pleasant to face sometimes but it has to be done.
So, yes, I miss the kids. At the same time, I no longer have to share my car with my daughter and there is a lot to be said for having both hands free pretty much full time. That is to say, it's not entirely a bad deal for dad. It must have been narcissism that allowed me to think there was no possible upside for my folks when I left. But I did leave, taking my trusty guitar with me.
I actually retrieved "old trusty" from storage and played it every so often for about a year before I came into all this free time that allows me to play every day. When I pulled it out I was a little sad and ashamed to see the strings were rusty. Fortunately, the instrument itself -- a Yamaha FG 200 six-string acoustic -- was still in very good condition. And why wouldn't it be? It had been stored in a cool, dark place, sheltered from direct sunlight, rain and all the other elements. A fresh set of strings, a little wood polish and it would sound as good as new. Getting my playing back to where it once was -- to where I want it to be from here on -- is an entirely different matter.
But there is time for that and although I'm not a big believer in fate or coincidence, it seems -- given a number of events that have followed -- this is a very good time to pick up the guitar again and play. So far it's turned out to be a lot of fun and -- to my surprise -- something of an adventure. [rc]
© 2009 United Press International, Inc.
Pat Nason and his beloved guitar
The kids are grown, with their own agendas -- much as their mom had when she struck out on her own some years ago.
So now, with time to myself, I'm picking up the guitar again.
It had been sitting in the closet, in a dark corner way in the back, for years. Imagine that. There was a time I played every day and couldn't conceive a day ever would come when I'd put it down and never pick it up again. Now there it was, stuffed deep in the closet behind a couple of pairs of shoes that should have been discarded years ago. Why in the world was I hanging on to them? Thrift, I guess.
Unlike those shoes, I'm not ready for the discard pile. It's not as though the kids don't still need me. They do -- just not every 10 minutes, the way they did before autonomy set in and they got drivers' licenses and jobs and their own money. Talk about a game changer!
It did not occur to me 40 years ago -- when I was passing through a stage of development similar to what my son and daughter are experiencing -- that my mom and dad might in any way be relieved when I set out on my own, even though I was the youngest of nine and the last to leave home.
Just as my mom made it clear she'd prefer I remain a little longer, I'd love it if my daughter were still here with me. But she is following her course and I'm doing my best to hold to a commitment I made long to ago to let my kids make their own choices in life. It's their job to climb and reach out -- my job was to teach them what I could and then stay close enough to catch them if they fall. That's worked out pretty well so far.
My son -- I call him "the big one" -- is still in the house with me but his life and mine don't intersect nearly as much as when he was a little guy and we did everything together. I miss that time, that closeness -- in some ways it's as if he is already out on his own.
But that's always been the deal with parents and children, hasn't it?
Kids come into your life relatively suddenly and before anyone realizes it everyone involved begins preparing for separation, even as we make the most of the time we have with one another. Sometimes it seems the parent-child relationship is organized mostly around negotiating terms for the inevitable dissolution of the household. It's maybe not so pleasant to face sometimes but it has to be done.
So, yes, I miss the kids. At the same time, I no longer have to share my car with my daughter and there is a lot to be said for having both hands free pretty much full time. That is to say, it's not entirely a bad deal for dad. It must have been narcissism that allowed me to think there was no possible upside for my folks when I left. But I did leave, taking my trusty guitar with me.
I actually retrieved "old trusty" from storage and played it every so often for about a year before I came into all this free time that allows me to play every day. When I pulled it out I was a little sad and ashamed to see the strings were rusty. Fortunately, the instrument itself -- a Yamaha FG 200 six-string acoustic -- was still in very good condition. And why wouldn't it be? It had been stored in a cool, dark place, sheltered from direct sunlight, rain and all the other elements. A fresh set of strings, a little wood polish and it would sound as good as new. Getting my playing back to where it once was -- to where I want it to be from here on -- is an entirely different matter.
But there is time for that and although I'm not a big believer in fate or coincidence, it seems -- given a number of events that have followed -- this is a very good time to pick up the guitar again and play. So far it's turned out to be a lot of fun and -- to my surprise -- something of an adventure. [rc]
© 2009 United Press International, Inc.
