Thirty Thousand Days

by Gregg Krech

A central theme in my relationship with my father was cars. It started, of course, further back than I can remember. Being driven around as a young child – to family gatherings and on errands and to doctors and restaurants. I didn’t get very far as a child without wheels and those wheels were paid for and often driven by my dad. At sixteen I obstinately decided that I was going to have my own wheels – no more sharing with my parents. I had saved some money and found a 1967 Mercury Cougar that was “cool” looking. It would have been a great car judged on looks alone, but its ability to get me from one place to another was severely hampered by a dysfunctional engine. Twice I blew a head gasket (major engine problem) while going with my girlfriend on an out-of-town excursion. Each time my dad showed up with his own car and a rented tow-bar to pull me home. Both rescue trips required about 2-3 hours travel one way. And after each break down my dad arranged for the mechanic at work to repair the engine at minimal cost.

When I graduated high school my dad bought me a used Toyota Corolla as a gift. That got me through many of my college years and when I moved to Washington, D.C., my dad offered a sizable down payment on a brand new Celica.

Once I was young, single and working you would expect the car legacy to end, but it didn’t. When I was twenty-five I had major knee surgery and my full leg cast couldn’t deal with the clutch in my manual shift Celica. My dad drove his own Buick all the way to Virginia and traded cars with me for six months. When my knee heeled, he drove the Celica to Cleveland from Chicago. I was visiting my girlfriend’s parents in Pittsburgh, so it was an easy drive to meet him there and reclaim my sporty car again. After ten years my Celica was ready for retirement. My eye caught sight of a car just recently introduced in the U.S. – the Acura (made by Honda). I bought a new Acura Integra and my dad again came up with the down payment that made it possible.

In 1992 I moved to Vermont and got married. My Acura was still healthy, but my wife owned a ailing Toyota corolla that wasn’t going to survive New England winters and dirt roads in the Vermont hills. I found a used all-wheel drive Subaru near my old home in Virginia. My dad lent us the money and we traded the corolla to a local service station for a good pair of snow tires. We paid my dad back just in time to get a new loan from him on a new Subaru in 1995. We were now a two-Subaru family.
By the time we were adopting our first daughter it was time to retire the older Subaru and get something “safe” for our child to ride in. My dad and I agreed that a used Volvo was the way to go. He spotted a 1992 Volvo Station Wagon in a parking lot at a train station in Chicago. He had it inspected, negotiated the sale, arranged for some minor repairs, and then drove it from Chicago to Vermont and delivered it to our home about 9 days after we returned from China with our baby daughter. The car came with another personal loan and the Van that followed (with our second child) came with a down payment from him.

I acquired my driver’s license on my 16th birthday and ever since my dad has made the transition to the next car just a bit easier. Whether it was a down payment, a loan or door to door delivery I can’t look at, or look back at, a single vehicle that doesn’t somehow bear his stamp of generosity. Oh – and I almost forgot – he also taught me how to drive.

Thanks Dad.

Love,
Gregg

In 1999 the public radio show, This American Life, published an audio story of a man who went to extraordinary lengths to search for his 7 year old's lost teddy bear. It's a wonderful story, not only because it shows the dedication of a dad who would do almost anything for his child. But it also makes us aware of all the extraordinary things our dads did for us as kids that we didn't appreciate. Even if we said thanks we probably had no idea of what he really had to go through to make our lives a bit more comfortable or reduce some of the suffering that was our natural karmic consequence.

This story (in audio format) is worth listening to (11 min long). It may inspire you to think of your own father and some of the reasons for honoring him this Father's Day.
You can find it (and several other good stories) on This American Life's website:
http://www.thislife.org/Radio_Episode.aspx?episode=132

If you have trouble with their audio player (we did) then you can listen to it below by clicking the PLAY arrow.

The Father's Day story of a dad's extraordinary efforts to locate his son's lost teddy bear.

by Gregg Krech

Janet Lipner had a realization recently. She attended a Tree Care program and after getting certified she helped to plant trees. She commented on all the factors that help a tree grow: depth and circumference of the hole, soil quality, water, etc . . But wherever you plant the tree, the tree has to deal with whatever condition it is planted in. This is really true of any kind of plant, since they cannot move or change their circumstances. But the tree doesn’t complain about it’s situation saying, “I should have been planted in a better spot, now I can’t grow well.” The tree does its best with what it gets. It’s easy for us to focus on how we were dealt a lousy hand in life and use that as constant source of complaint and excuse as to why we haven’t done better. This type of attitude contributes to our own suffering and to the suffering of others. In fact, by complaining like this we create conditions for the “trees” around us that make their lives more difficult. So perhaps we can take a lesson from our friends the trees and simply do our best with whatever situation we encounter. The conditions of our lives will always be less than ideal. But just to be planted on this earth for the short period of time we call ‘this life’ is truly a gift that we should continuously reflect on.

Adapted from ONENESS, The Quarterly Newsletter of Bright Dawn
www.brightdawn.org