Have you ever had a conversation, written an email, or blurted something out that you wish you could take back, re-word or phrase differently? Ever wish you could press the life “Rewind” button and start again ‘from the top?’ Today, as I re-read yesterday’s post (which I do from time to time…for the very reason I am about to discuss), I discovered the Unexpected Health in…the DELETE button.
I think we are all familiar with the Delete button. It is quite obviously healthy for many reasons: you can erase mistakes, re-write confusing sentences, even cancel an entire document. Those are all extremely useful correction tools. But the Unexpected Health in the Delete button is that the very act of talking about it can un-do confusing messages…and being able to make corrections in life is healthy.
As I looked back on yesterday’s Father’s Day post, I realized that what made sense in my head did not shine through ‘on paper’ (virtual paper, that is). Had this post not been published for the world to see, I would have logged on, highlighted the post, and promptly hit…DELETE.
So here is my correction, my virtual Delete button:
Dads are so Unexpectedly Healthy because their display of love is sometimes a little undercover…you don’t always see their love coming and sometimes don’t feel the impact until you realize what they’ve done. Moms tend to be more obvious ‘love displayers’: my mom will grab my brother and I and lay a big kiss on our faces; she will celebrate our victories with parties and presents; and she will cry at any and every tear-jerking moment in our lives. My dad, on the other hand, is more of the quick, sometimes prickly kiss on the cheek kind of guy; he doesn’t organize the parties and presents, but is up at the crack of dawn preparing for the party, working hard after the festivities end, and provides the money to be able to buy all the gifts; and he may not cry at every heart-felt card he has ever received, but he is sentimental and supportive for all of our milestone moments.
Dads–at least my dad–are like quiet hummingbirds. You don’t always experience their scattering of love until later; when you see the flowers of your life blossoming and blooming. Dads spread love, growth, and beauty just as moms do…but in a completely unique way; a man’s way. My dad may not have made my lunches every day, but he made sure he was home for dinner every night.
Parents take such criticism…and they take it gracefully. Some get grief if they baby their children; others are blamed if they are too tough. For me, the beauty–the health–in growing ‘in,’ has been recognizing and realizing that my parents show their love in quite unique ways; but one is not stronger than another. During my teenage and early college years, I might have ranted and raved that my dad did not understand me. What I have come to realize is that it was not him who didn’t know me…it was that I did not understand him. Life is so much sweeter when we can ‘see.’ I SEE my dad…and I am grateful.
And the next time you need to locate a virtual or actual retraction, make it happen. You don’t need your computer’s Delete button to correct and communicate misunderstandings. Just start again…
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