Yesterday I flew back home from Columbia. It had been a while since I had been on an airplane, but it was just as tedious as I remembered. Almost missed my connection in Atlanta so by the time I got to my middle seat on row 14 I was sweating like a pig. Luckily my two seat mates were of normal height and weight, the guy on the aisle zoned out with headphones on, while the college aged girl on the window was well-dressed and had the guts to wear heels. After we got settled, I offered her a Laffy Taffy which she politely refused, but soon after introduced herself as a student at Hampton University who wanted to know if I liked popcorn. When I answered in the affirmative she immediately asked if I would be interested in buying some from her—she was raising money for some project at her school. I admired the confidence and the enthusiasm, so of course I bought three bags of gourmet popcorn!
As the flight progressed she told me a bit of her background and her summer internship with Ernst and Young, her plans to eventually go to law school. She was bright and determined. I offered some business advice/life lessons that I had picked up over a 40+ year career. We talked about faith and the importance of generosity. I came away from the encounter confident in her future.
Meanwhile, the three seats directly in front of us were occupied by a Mom, Dad, and two children about 3 and 5. When I first saw them sitting there I thought, Aww man…this might be a long flight. But then I remembered how insanely hard it is to travel with two little ones. I remembered how nobody on the entire aircraft is more nervous about those two kids than Mom and Dad are. I watched them put on a master class in patience and preparation. The kids were angels the entire flight. About halfway through I tapped the Dad on the shoulder and told him what an incredible job they were doing. He laughed and said, “Don’t speak too soon!!” Then he thanked me for saying so. Another reason to be confident about the future.
But of course I also worry. Each generation bares some responsibility for preserving the good and beautiful things in this world for those who come after us. I’m not going to engage in generation-bashing because it’s cheap and untrue. Life is complicated. Every generation brings strengths and weaknesses to the table. I’m a Baby Boomer and our record is mixed. There are 73 million of us, I’m told. In a group that large there will be plenty of saints and sinners. As a new grandfather I feel an overwhelming desire to create a clear path forward for not just Silas, but every young person out there with children or thinking about having children. Raising kids has always been devilishly difficult business. Think about the electricity and medicine-free life of parents in the Middle Ages, or the pioneers who traipsed across this continent in covered wagons. But although compared to the vast majority of history we have it relatively easy by comparison, it’s still hard work. Parents today have it in many ways harder than Pam and I did because of one simple thing—the internet. Sure, they can watch a YouTube video about how to change a diaper but they will also face unprecedented judgement from their peers on social media, then have to guard their children form the filth it will bring to their children’s minds in about ten years. I can’t even imagine how I would have dealt with that.
So, in my retirement years my job is going to be preserving as much of the good and beautiful as I can. Silas deserves that. My new friend from Hampton University deserves that, as do the wonderful parents in row 13.
Love this!
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