I think parenting is an impossible job. Not having children of my own, I can't imagine the responsibility it carries, and in my particular case, the living up to the familial lineage of love that has come before me from the Mullica side and Pries side, and now the Sturgill side and the Campbell side, and the time and sacrifice and patience it requires every day from the very first. It seems the most important key is time. I don't know of a perfect human being in history, but all any kid wants is a parent who wants to be with them. It seems the deepest longing of the human heart is to be known.
I can't think of a time in my life when my father hasn't pursued time with me. Most recently, in these past five or six years, it's been the mutual pursuit of the breakfast date. I feel privileged as an adult to hear my father ask for my opinion, or share with me something profound that he has experienced, or something small, or anything at all, and tell me I am among his friends.
But there were so many other moments, thousands of early moments, where he read to me before I went to sleep, where we danced together in the living room listening to Tower of Power. He taught me how to play card games like Spite and Malice, and board games like Scrabble. He made me fall in love with day trips and Sunday drives, although I could never share his love for eagles and mountains. If I have the tiniest bit of him in me, the way he hated ATM's for the longest time and didn't want to use them because they took away from human interaction, the way he has always been able to both tell a good story and listen to someone else's story (whether it be good or not), the way his time is never his own but instead an extension to others, if any of these small things that make up Randy Pries could ever begin to take root in me, I would hug everyone I know and never be able to contain my gratitude. Sometimes I feel like I want to keep him to myself like a secret, and in other moments I feel guilty to have him so present and invested in my life, like I am hogging his goodness from the rest of world and all of humanity would benefit from him being scattered around. There are days when I just can't believe I know him. Then again, he's always been there.
But there were so many other moments, thousands of early moments, where he read to me before I went to sleep, where we danced together in the living room listening to Tower of Power. He taught me how to play card games like Spite and Malice, and board games like Scrabble. He made me fall in love with day trips and Sunday drives, although I could never share his love for eagles and mountains. If I have the tiniest bit of him in me, the way he hated ATM's for the longest time and didn't want to use them because they took away from human interaction, the way he has always been able to both tell a good story and listen to someone else's story (whether it be good or not), the way his time is never his own but instead an extension to others, if any of these small things that make up Randy Pries could ever begin to take root in me, I would hug everyone I know and never be able to contain my gratitude. Sometimes I feel like I want to keep him to myself like a secret, and in other moments I feel guilty to have him so present and invested in my life, like I am hogging his goodness from the rest of world and all of humanity would benefit from him being scattered around. There are days when I just can't believe I know him. Then again, he's always been there.
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