When Dylan was an elementary age boy, probably between six and ten years old, he played basketball through the YMCA or the parks system. I learned a lot about myself and my own father when I went through that period with Dylan. Dylan had some athletic ability. He wasn’t going to get a free college education playing basketball, but he had some respectable potential. Seeing that Dylan had this potential made it so difficult for me sometimes. I would get so frustrated when it would seem like he wouldn’t listen to simplest of instructions. “Rebound and put the ball right back up.” “Get back!” “Get your hands up!” “Run, run, run!” I lost myself many times. I understood why my own father would do the same kind of things to me when I was a boy. You could see the potential, but not the will. Sometimes, before Dylan had practice, we would shoot some baskets. If I just kept my mouth shut and casually shot some hoops with my son, we seemed to have a good time and he seemed to enjoy it. I just wanted him to succeed and be happy. And I told him as much many times.

Tomorrow would have been Dylan’s 23rd birthday. Many, many times when Dylan was in high school and college I wondered where he would end up. Would he land on his feet? Would he be happy? I had a much different approach with Dylan at this point. Dylan didn’t become a more interested basketball player, because I was constantly giving him my opinion. As young man, a very young man, I knew this period could be pivotal in setting up Dylan’s adult life. And I wanted nothing more than for him than to be happy and interested in life. I always had the perspective that he had to go to college. I told him that I didn’t care if he wanted to be a ditch digger or garbage man after he had a college education. If it made him happy, I was fine with it. After he had a degree. Many times I tried to explain to him how having a college education greatly increased the odds of him having a better quality of life than if he didn’t. I often cited my own situation to illustrate. He understood and I believe he knew that he was going to get his degree. Like myself though, we went by our own calendar. I used to say, I just wanted to run down on the basketball court and put my hands on his shoulders and move him around like a chess piece. I felt very much the same way about Dylan’s education and career direction, but I resisted. Once in a while, we would talk about where he saw himself or what might interest him. It was clear that he was as uncertain as I was at that age. I told him how very lucky I was to stumble into something I really enjoyed. I went with what I was strong in, and always thought that he should do the same. I think he was still trying to figure that out. I know I was at 19 or 20 years of age.

I chose this image, because Donna absolutely loves this image. Not because it is the best photograph of Dylan, but because of what it represents. Happiness. He was with the girl he loved and his family, and it was his 20th birthday. And he was grateful. We were grateful.