Michael Buffington

The Final Month

Tuesday, September 03 2002

Within a month I will be a parent for the first time. Eight months ago I was apprehensive, perhaps scared. Today, I’m excited. I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about what kind of parent I will be, and what kind of parents I have, and I’m not afraid. I’m well aware of the trials I face, and I’m glad that my life has been full of them so that I might grow accustomed to getting up after a fall. If children learn by example, my children have a lot to gain. I’ll teach them to follow me with a notepad, making sure I hit my quota of mistakes for the day.

My Dad has been pointing out that my priorities will change with a child, claiming that what was once important will be less so, and what wasn’t as important will become intensely desired. Maybe there’s something in the water, but I think he’s right. As it turns out, my Dad has always been right, and so has my Mom. What seemed like pure and utter insanity to sixteen year old ears is quite simply pure and simple truth.

I thought that with a child, the intensity at which I drum up business would be insane. My current “business-man” drive is largely driven by the desire to provide for my family, or the future of my family. But now, even as opportunities surface, I’m more concerned about having free time so that I can be there for my family. The memories I have of being a kid with my Dad are rich, and powerful, and despite the fact that he and my mom divorced when I was two, he was able to provide what no amount of money can purchase. He was and is a Dad, and a good one at that, and he’ll teach me everything I know about being a father.