Goodbye Song.

To my restless and free-spirited, world-traveling son and fellow coach:

The time I knew would come but dreaded anyway is here. You are leaving Austria to travel to Australia. At one time, I thought Stillwater, Oklahoma was a long ways away. Now, you will be literally half a world away from your mother and me. I hope you don't mind that I wrote some down some thoughts

(Photo by Johann Schwarz; one of my favorites)

I hope I have been a tolerable roommate for the last few months of this unconventional twist of our lives. I wouldn't have been on this amazing journey, enjoyed it nearly as much, or been as successful without you. But now as the time for you to go, I clumsily attempt to put my thoughts into words.

On a professional note, you are one of the best and brightest football minds with which I have ever been associated. Your knowledge and grasp of the game far outstrip your younger years and you have the potential, abilities, and demeanor to contribute mightily to any football program. Your rapport with coaches, players, parents, and fans is impeccable. You have a way of correcting or admonishing players in a blunt, and sometimes scathing manner but then building them back up and within a few moments. Your players and fellow coaches admire, respect, and rely on you. I know they also appreciate the "extra mile' you go and the may more you are willing to go.

From a parental (and much more sentimental and emotional) point of view:

Before we ever brought you home, we had decided that rather than bringing a child into this world, we could help one that was already here. One of those children became you. From the earliest experiences with you, I sensed an unbridled spirit combined with an indomitable intelligence. We gave parameters but always tried let you make your own decisions. When you left for college, and you gave me a final hug (it was in the garage) before you left, a thought crossed my mind. It was crystal-clear. It occurred to me that the child I knew would never return. As you have grown, left home and made your way into the world, I have watched from afar. Getting glimpses that you allow personally and from others. There have rarely been times that you did what conventional wisdom would dictate. So different from your sister, there are few times that you did the safe and conservative thing. The parent in me cringes when I learn of another path that you decide to take (just when I come to accept the last one).

Now that time has come for you to leave on another life-adventure that the large majority of people only dream of but would never consider doing. At the base of my throat comes this tightness that accompanies in me, the turbulence associated with dealing with an impending sadness. Tears well up at inopportune times; my memories, somehow taking control of them. Again, I can't force myself to suggest that you don't go. Again, I know that you will find a temporary gratification that comes from new experiences in new locations. But this time I feel a growing terror that I am losing touch with you. By virtue of our communications over the years, I have become the link between you and the rest of your family. Now, I fear that the communications will whither away and I too, will lose touch with you. This would be the worst-possible thing to happen to those who love you.

Please allow me; us to somehow remain an informed part of your life. We want to hear what you are doing, enjoying, and with what you are struggling. (In retrospect, I am afraid that the part of me that doesn't let people get too close to me is a trait that you have acquired.) We want to shake our heads in astonishment when we hear of the next adventure on which you embark and we would never advise (but always come to support). I am putting these most-private of thoughts in a public blog in hopes that someone close to you reads it and reminds you what all parents want; for their children to call them.

So I hope we have helped you along; knowing that parents can't own children. I pray that we have equipped you for the trials and joys of this life. I know you are savoring every morsel of a life well-lived. And although your mother and I are sad to see you go, we love knowing you take part of us with you. And we love knowing that you leave a part of you with us.

Always know that we love you beyond all measure and if you ever find that for what you are restlessly looking turns out to be in Oklahoma, we will welcome you back. When you have wrung the last drops of travel from a hectic life, a more simple and quiet one awaits just north of the Red River or on the banks of the Cimarron.

Travel wisely and safely and God be with you.

Love you,

Mom and Dad

"Now the road ahead becomes your own

to build your mountain stone by stone.

A last embrace; surrendered slow.

It's such a hard thing; letting go".

Vienna, Austria

June 14, 2011