Monday, October 01, 2012

...and so it begins.

I spent my youth, adolescence and even time as a young adult habitually challenging my father to arm wrestling contests whenever the desire arose and the opportunity presented itself. I don’t recall ever beating him. I guess the challenges stopped when I no longer felt that I needed to prove anything to him or maybe just out of sheer respect when I figured that I may be able to beat him. He never shirked from the challenge and was always more than willing to oblige. This is part of some unwritten father/son creed, an opportunity to foster confidence and steer youth down the correct path to adulthood.

I recall that opportunity with my own son clearly. My heart beat slightly faster. I felt a little flush. I could sense a faint bit of moisture on my palms. Was it really going to happen?

I was checkmated shortly thereafter.


There may come a time in every father’s life when he will be surpassed by his son, physically, intellectually, or both. As fathers, we know this day is coming and while we may rage against it, we are proud when it finally arrives. I got my first glimpse of that day last week when my son made nearly flawless moves on his way to checkmating me. Sure, he had beaten me before, but then I had moved carelessly on purpose, as I taught him the game. This time was different. When he gained a small edge early in the contest, I countered aggressively to try and overcome the disadvantage. I never did and was defeated several shrewd moves later. We shook hands as is our custom after chess and I could see in his eyes that he knew what I knew:  the day had come. He had done well.

Son, you’ll know much more than I will ever know. I hope you continue to do well, but more importantly I hope you do good.