Editorial: Little Boy Blue & the Man in the Moon

My child arrived just the other day. He came to the world in the usual way.

October 19, 2006, to be exact. That’s when Benjamin Allen Homer Estlack came into our world and changed my life forever by making me a Dad. Seventeen years ago seems like “just the other day,” but as Harry Chapin’s “Cat’s in the Cradle” warns, time passes all too quickly when you’re raising kids. You have to savor every moment.

I’ve always said that song has got to be one of the saddest ever written. The story of a boy and his dad who very much love and admire each other but never seem to quite find time to spend together.

“When you comin’ home, Dad?”
“I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then. You know we’ll have a good time then.”

The life of a newspaperman is busy – going to evening meetings, covering events, and often working late – but “Cat’s in the Cradle” was always in my mind every time little Ben would follow me to the front door and tell me to “Be careful on that road, Daddy.” And so, I tried to make sure when I was home, that we played Tinker Toys or cars or whatever as often as we could.

Our family life has been busy – busier than most, but we’ve been busy together for the most part. Ashlee and I have tried to temper that busy-ness by making sure there were fun memories for Ben and his sister. Fun activities and great vacations and a philosophy of “we work hard so we can have fun, too.”

My son turned ten just the other day. He said, “Thanks for the ball, Dad, c’mon let’s play. Can you teach me to throw?”

Let’s face it. I’m a band guy. Sports were never my forte. But if Ben wanted to play catch, that lyric would hit me, and I’d say, “yes.” The chances won’t always be there, so I’d take them and try to soak them up. And perhaps, I even learned to throw a little better myself. It worked both ways. Ben was and often still is my sidekick. The guy I love to spend time with whether working or playing.

“I’m gonna be like him, yeah. You know I’m gonna be like him.”

In the song, the kid hopes to be like his Dad. But for me, I’ve always wished I could be a little like more Ben. He’s a great guy with a great personality, great friends, and is so good at so many things – art, cooking, music, math, science, humor, writing, and more. I give his mother most of the credit for that. She’s more talented than I am.

So much like a man, I just had to say, “Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?”
He shook his head, and he said with a smile, “What I’d really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys. See you later, can I have them please?”

And boom. Just like that, he became independent. He drives himself and his sister everywhere. He drives his mother and me also (which I enjoy). And he’s off… to band, to history club, to work, to hang out with friends, to workout, to wherever. It’s harder now to find time for just us, but we both are trying. His attention recently turned to the ’69 Ford that my brother and I both learned to drive in. It’s sat idle for about 30 years, but he thinks it’s a good project for us as well as for him and his cousin and a buddy and for my brother and me. None of us know much about engines, but it’s an adventure together.

The calendar is turning more quickly now. This week Ben turns 17, and we know our time with him in our everyday lives is growing shorter by the minute. He ordered his senior ring just recently. In a blink, he’ll be 18. He’ll help pick the next American president. (I wish he had better choices for that.) And then, it’s off to college.

“When you comin’ home, son?”
“I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, Dad. We’re gonna have a good time then.”

He makes me proud, my son. I can’t wait to see where life takes him, but I think he knows we’ll always be glad to see him back home. I fear that the next 19 months will be over before we know it, but I intend to squeeze every moment together I can with him… without cramping his style or social life too much. After all, he’s one of my favorite people.

Happy birthday, son. I love you.