Stand on your head.

"Are you *** Begg?"  

"Yes"

"I remember your dad playing tennis at Forest Hill." 

Yes.  Your probably do.   He did not play tennis quietly or patiently.

Dad approaches everything in his way -- and playing tennis means, that, on occasion - a racket was tossed.   Not at any one - just 'cause - well  you know why?  Because, sometimes, you need to toss a racket.

Rules, boundaries, guidelines, expectations are there and have a purpose - but they don't replace feelings. 

And feelings are what makes life worth living.

My dad has real  feelings - and he lets 'em out.

When its time to be silly - Sam Begg is silly. There is not a kid in the world who has met my dad who is not clear on that.

Here Sam is about to stand on his head. In a dining room. In Bermuda.  Because - well why not? 

We got our own dining room at this resort every other meal of our trip.  See, doing what you want to do - when you want to do it - has real merit.

What does having a dad like this mean to a kid ?  Or to a grandkid? Well, for me, it meant that I was safe.  To try - to feel - and to mess up and try again.  Because I was human and all of us are.  

I lose sight of this lesson often.  I spend a great deal of time controlling our life.  The calendar, the emails, the scheduling.  I worry about exposing the children and Tom and I to experiences.  But what I think I am forgetting is that experiences - certainly the best experiences, come organically and are rooted in feelings.

I love you Daddy. I will try to remember to stand on my head more often.