I was what one would call a Chatty Cathy. The younger me talked my dad’s ear off. Asking about all sorts of things. Dad answered every question. At times, the response would encourage me to do research. Most times, the response would lead to hours upon hours of conversation. The discussion led me to acknowledge my why and periodically appreciate math.
When I was young, I thought the talks were lectures, but the discussions were the foundation of the many things I remember about dad.
To me, dad was as tall as the Jolly Green Giant. Wiser than Einstein. My best friend.
Even when he sent me to the gas station to buy Kool Filter Kings, don’t judge! When I was growing up, a child could purchase cigarettes, plus the owner of Watkins Shell knew my family.
One thing was for sure; I knew not to say, “I’m bored.” My dad felt the best way to overcome boredom was math—no more than ten math problems. On the surface, the math appeared straightforward, even simple. No brainers. Even though it took me most of the day to complete the math problems.
Once finished, dad would walk me through each one. Explain the rationale for the math problem. Expect me to explain my strategy for each answer- acknowledging my why. Talk about pins and needles! If I couldn’t explain, he would take additional time to explain the importance of being able to explain my strategy. I wouldn’t say I liked it. In fact, my thoughts were I’d rather be watching television.
Indeed, the math problems were more than busywork. The problems emphasized the use of critical thinking. Thinking beyond what I know. Beginning to conceptualize what I didn’t.
Dad was the first to insist that I practice strategy.
Did I know this at the time? Of course not. Just like I said, I’d rather be watching television. Yet, the lesson in critical thinking helps me today.
My father didn’t tell me that I could be anything I wanted to be. Instead, he told me that whatever I choose to do in life, BE GOOD AT IT.
Not just the good in the sense that it only benefits others, but that it also benefits me. Until several years later, I didn’t understand the message. Honestly, not until after he passed—years of searching, second-guessing, feeling as if something was missing. The truth is I forgot acknowledge my why.
My good at it.
That said, the lesson taught me to understand my why and be glad in it. Believe in me. Indeed, it is okay to see and think beyond what I know. Remember my ten math problems and the rationale for each.
Remembering the reason why you started may help you finish. Practice self-care. By finish, I mean:
- Motivation to work harder
- Encouragement to evaluate my intention
- Ask for help
- Take a break (i.e., watching a favorite show, take a walk)
- Go on a day trip (aka Spa Day)
All in all, the road to completion is different for each person. Ironically, the journey was the math—evaluating a different approach. There is power in it, and dad taught me that.
Thanks, Dad. I love you!