A Man Named Dave

spot, where my family and I would spend our summers together.”
    “Right here, at that cabin?” Stephen pointed as he asked in amazement.
    “Yep, right here. We walked around the block, and that one time with Dad I felt like I was ten feet tall. I was a somebody. It’s something I never forgot. Back then it meant the world to me. That’s why I love walking with you; it’s something I can pass on.” I smiled.
    Together in silence Stephen and I retraced a journey that had begun a lifetime ago. Only this time we held hands, and I kept my son close to my side. At the end of the block Stephen stopped to hug me around the waist. “Thanks, Dad.”
    “No.” I again choked up. “Thank you, Stephen. You mean the world to me, and well, I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but I try. I want you to know how much I love you. I truly do.”
    On the block near our house, Stephen shyly asked, “Dad … am I going to make it?”
    I could only stroke his short blond hair in wonderment. That same question had plagued me for so many years.
    “It’s okay, Dad. I know it’s a stupid question. I don’t want to waste your time.”
    “Stephen, take all the time you want. Here, sit down,” I instructed.
    “Here, in the middle of the street?” he asked, looking around.
    I sat down, folding my legs on the pavement. “Right here, right now, nothing else is more important. Relax, you’re too young to be so serious. You’re going to make it. Not a doubt in my mind. Absolutely!”
    “How do you know? I mean …”
    “I know.” I nodded my head. “I know you. You’re a terrific young man. You’re kind, you’re sensitive. You know right from wrong and, most important, you’ve got a good heart.” Switching topics for a moment, I admitted, “I know our divorce wasn’t easy, and I am sorry. I truly am. I know school isn’t always easy, or dealing with other kids, or things you have to face on a daily basis. No offense, but that’s life. Everybody has problems. Everyone.
    “But you’re different: you deal with things. It’s not always easy, but that’s the way it is. I’m not trying to be a tough guy about this, but no matter what happens to you, it doesn’t give you an excuse to blame others or wallow in self-pity. Your mother, your teachers, others who love you, or even myself: we can only help you so far. It’s going to be up to you to make it happen. No one’s perfect. There are no sets of perfect parents; no one has a perfect life. Your mother and I tried to make it work out. But it didn’t. And as you grow older, maybe you can learn something positive from our mistakes.
    “You’re going to be fine. You’ve got a strong heart. In life you’re going to make mistakes, you’re going to fall down, but it’s getting up that counts. Just like in baseball: you’ll get a few hits, but most likely, you’ll strike out more than you’ll get on base. But don’t quit. Find your focus, relax, take a deep breath, and give it a good swing. I beg of you, Stephen, don’t quit. There are so many people who cave in at the first sign of trouble. They quit school, they act like they know it all, and develop a habit of quitting on everything. You’re better than that. If you quit, everything you fought for – your grades, baseball, your self-respect – would have been in vain. The thing is, at the end of the day you still have to face yourself. I know it’s a lot to digest at your age, but I’m here to help you. Like I said, I can’t do it all for you, but my job as a parent is to make you a responsible, functional, productive adult. I’m not here to raise a child, but a happy, caring, nurturing man. I see greatness within you. You have your whole life ahead of you. If I’ve learned anything from my past, the one thing I can teach you as a father is this: Stephen, there is nothing, and I mean nothing, you cannot accomplish if you want it bad enough. The choice is yours. Always has been, always will be. Stay on your course. Be true to yourself, and you’ll be fine.”
    Smiling, Stephen asked, “You think so?”
    Taking his hand, I stated, “I know so. You’re going to be fine. I’m here for you. Even when I’m not physically with you, not a single day passes that I don’t think about you and pray for you. Come on,” I joked, “don’t do what I did and be so serious all the time. Have fun! Relax, seize the day. Take a breath. ‘In da nose … out da mouth,’” I said in my Schwarzenegger voice. As we gazed up at the stars that filled the black sky, everything seemed within reach. Both