Seattle I love you.

Seattle, Seattle.  You will always have my heart.  Sometimes I wish I had never left.  Sometimes I think I appreciate it more because I miss it so.  To me Seattle is the most beautiful city in the summer.  I would take it over anywhere else in the world.  One of the books I am writing right now is set in Seattle.  If I ever manage to finish it and publish it, you can see where I draw my inspiration from.  

Vegan bakery in Freemont.  

Bookstores in Seattle are imbued with such a delightful mustiness and character.

The Rail.

Sosio's at the Market.  This is my produce stand from way back.  I would shop here daily.  I can't even begin to describe how amazing everything is here.  

The smell in Market Spice. The SMELL! All those spices mixed with saltiness of the air and the fish from next door. Lush is the only way I could possibly describe the smell.

The hidden side of the Market.

The iconic Smith Tower in Seattle bookends the southern side of the city.

Glasshouse Studio in the old Pioneer Square district. Beautiful and amazing. Go in and watch them working on the glass. Amazing!!!

An early evening snack on the Harbor Steps along Post Alley. A crusty loaf. A cheese from the cheesemonger. Blanxart dark chocolate. And dried strawberries.

The Gum Wall. Disgusting and beautiful at the same time.

The ferries are the gatekeepers of the water.  

The Market late at night. Everyone gone. There is a poetic, forlorn quality to it.

Kerry park at night, in the rain. The air was so thick you could almost taste it.  The city feels so close and present and vibrant.  It seems to radiate energy.   

The view from West Seattle.  

The Coliseum Theater - now the Banana Republic building. It's on the National Historic Register. Beautiful building.

Flowers at the Market remind me of my wedding - going there in the morning and buying armfulls of the most amazing gorgeous flowers.  

Through The Brief Depths

Another update from my good friend and athlete Bryan Larsen.  It's been a year of challenges.  But, he embodies the philosophy of Semper Porro.

Through The Brief Depths

Simply put, it’s been a rough year. I hope to finally be able to talk about it. To talk about me breaking down. To talk about me lying in bed unable to move in the most pain I’ve ever experienced. To talk about nearly coming to terms with quitting and walking away forever.

It’s been a rough year. My last post discussed the horrors of Mexico: a great yet horrific story. I wrote that post with the intention to explain the amount of suffering that cyclist can encounter. As it turns out, Mexico was an appetizer for the main course that has been this season. I sampled the pain and suffering, discussing the many complexities of my own mindset while trying to swallow my own sadness.

I took a week off after mexico, I had lost nearly 10lbs while there, sick and weak. I rested as best I could, still relatively positive and looking forward to the next events: Chico Stage Race, Redlands Classic, and Sea Otter. I started to actually come back and feel what I suspected was the rewards of all my base training this off-season. I was excited and eager to race Chico. This year’s event consisted of an opening circuit race on an auto racing track, which I placed a respectable 5th or 6th. Beyond the result, the positive news was that I felt strong and was never under pressure. The next day, a long road race with multiple times over a dirt section. Eager to show my experience from the previous year’s European Classics, I hit the front very early on. The wind was ripping hard from the north - a 10 mile direct crosswind section right from the start sent me right back to the Netherlands. The pack was schredding as we powered down the straight and exposed road. I was at the front point of the pack, 3 or 4 wheels back in an echelon when the rider two places in front of me crossed wheels and crashed in front of me. I hit him hard.

I found myself laying on the ground. My head throbbing. Surely I had a concussion. I got up and attempted to find my bike. It was broken. No spares meant my race was done. Then my attention turned to myself. If I wanted to help out the team again, I needed to get healthy first. I took another week off the bike completely.

I’ve heard the stories of Redlands Bicycle Classic. I’ve heard how tough it can be. I’ve heard how strong you need to be just to finish. I sat there telling myself it’s going to be tough enough to finish if you’re strong and healthy. Coming off a concussion and residual effects of Mexico still haunting me, I knew what I was signing myself up for. 5 stages later. I finished Lantern Rouge. Dead. Freaking. Last.

I was very focused before Sea Otter. Desperate for a good performance.

The good news was those days of suffering on the bike did help me feel revitalized for racing once again and we took off for Sea Otter. Luck was against me again though.  In short, my brake cabled slipped or broke on the descent mid corner causing me to hit a parked police car. I sat there on the ground in disbelief. I’ve had nightmares of my brakes going out when I needed them most. It would wake me up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. The season was shaping up into a living nightmare. Fortunately, my injuries were not much more than a couple scrapes and bruises. They forced me to take it easy for a couple days but it could have been MUCH worse. In fact, the police car looked far worse than I did.

I still sat there, questioning my perseverance and rationalizing my fitness and performances with the rocky quote rattling in my head, “It’s not about how hard you can hit, it’s about how hard you can GET hit. How much you can take and keep moving forward”. Onward and upward I told myself...

“You suck” I told myself following my performance at Winston-Salem Classic. “I don’t care what Rocky says, you downright suck.” I returned home and didn’t touch my bike for another couple days. After a LONG conversation with my coach, Jordan Itaya, he managed to screw my head back on relatively straight. I grabbed  my bike and left for a ride. One way I looked at it was that, while I’ve had the worst season imaginable from crashes and luck, I simultaneously felt invincible. After all, nothing had truly hurt me. Sure, cumulatively I had to take a few weeks off the bike but maybe that was a blessing in disguise so I didn’t burn out too early. Heck, I’d crashed multiple times, been chewed up at Redlands, spat out (literally) while in Mexico, but I was still riding! “Shit man, I’m not 100% but I’m still riding. That’s got to count for something,” I told myself as I rolled out for my ride…

That turned out to be a very short ride. 1 minute and 30 seconds, in fact. It only took 1.5 minutes before I found myself flying over the windshield of a car. I laid in the intersection. My neck tightening and my hip bruising. I wasn’t angry. I was just sad. Really sad. I looked to my $12K bicycle, now in pieces. “That’s it,” convinced myself and took off my helmet. I spoke with the police and went to Urgent Care thanks to my girlfriend, Ashley, whose house I had started my ride from just around the corner from the curb where I now sat, still in disbelief.

Car punched me in the face.

4 days later, I woke up to my neck completely seized up. I couldn’t move. I laid there trying to self-console myself while also kissing the rest of the season, and possibly cycling as a whole, goodbye. I had muscle spasms from the whiplash that were more painful than anything I had ever experienced. The throbbing began underneath my skull and spread down between my shoulder blades. Your neck is THE foundation to everything I soon found out. My neck and back pain was so debilitating that just picking up a book made me depressingly lethargic. I didn’t touch my bike for weeks.  Once again.

After 20 hours of PT over a few weeks, I felt significantly like my old self - excited by this positive turn to simply not be in agony 24-7. That didn't last long thouh, the neck re-locked up, sending me back-stepping to weeks before. I was in the same place. Stuck on my bed. Unable to move freely.

I still brought myself to PT 3 times a week. Not thinking about racing anymore. Just thinking about how nice it’d be to not be fatigued, lethargic, and in pain. I sat on the sidelines at Dana Point Grand Prix. I watched my BMW teammates race on the circuit that I had walked to. It was great to watch them and offer my support while cheering (and heckling) each lap. But personally, it crushed me. It crushed me watching them ride, thinking I might not be racing for a very very long time.

We won’t go into specifics (this blog is far too long already!) but over the course of the next 2 months, I steadily returned to my old self. I was able to ride on the tops of the bars with my stem raised and my bars facing upwards so I didn’t have to bend over as much or strain my shoulder blades or neck. The fact that my stem was not slammed as low as possible disgusted me.

I started to feel okay for riding again, some 2 months later. So what do I do though? I can’t bend over into the drops. I can’t go hard. So Instead, I just rode. I rode for as much as I could. On the tops of the bars, just rolling around at 10-15mph for 4-8hours. Honestly, I still wasn’t thinking about racing. But it sure as hell was nice just being back to riding. It felt great to feel the wind in my hair. My leg hair, that is.

Shockingly so, I started getting some fitness. I couldn’t sprint to save my life but I could ride all day every day if I needed. What I realized was that in the time off, the time I spent flat on my back in agony, the time I spent forcing myself to move my head despite every fiber of my being telling me to stop immediately, my legs were resting. I wasn’t physically fatigued for the first time in a LONG time. The result? Insomnia. It honestly felt awful to not be “tired”. I’d lay in bed not tired but not awake either. This nightmare just turned into purgatory. I had to get myself tired and fatigued just so I could sleep. So, I started riding a lot. Just, if for no other reason, so I could sleep.

After a few chats with my girlfriend, I ultimately decided I needed to continue. “I firmly believe you make your own luck,” she kept insisting despite me telling her all this shit was a result of me and my coach breaking a 10ft mirror in January. So then I looked to the local scene with my first race back being the Orange County Cycling Classic: A 2 day omnium event on the old El Toro Airfield. The courses were on the runways, wide and exposed to the wind. But the big feature of the weekend would be on day 2 which included a handmade 1km dirt road. “Wow! How cool is that?!” I told myself so excited by the fact that Ryan Miller, Russ Aimes, and Travis Wilkerson had actually put together a European styled course right smack in the center of Orange County. “Too bad I was in no shape to be competitive” I told myself down playing any chances I had. I figured having no hope was better than being let down yet again.

There really was a 10ft mirror…I wasn’t joking.

The first day was hard. REALLY hard. I felt like when everyone dug deep and attacks started coming it took everything just to hold the wheel in the draft. The difference was that I actually wasn’t too tired near the end of the race. Those long days of riding just so I could sleep had boosted my endurance. KHS threw down some serious horsepower putting 2 riders in the front 3 man winning break and then placing another just ahead of me in 4th. But I finished 5th!!! Wow.

Going into day 2, I looked to Kyle and said it was “possible” that we could podium. I’m not sure how convincing I was or if he knew I was talking out my ass. Knowing how hard KHS hit everyone the day before it was going to be exponentially harder to beat them on a harder course. Plus, I needed luck on my side, something that hadn’t happened for the 6 months before that day.

We took off and I actually felt amazing. I was covering moves and riding up to breaks. “I just want a podium,” I told myself each time I was in a small potentially dangerous move. With 3 laps (1 lap=4 miles) to go, I still felt amazing rolling in a 4 man group. We got caught with 1.5 laps to go. Sure enough, as I suspected would happen, KHS teamed up and drilled it, splintering the already small group in the process. Unlike Saturday, I was able to cover it. But then I heard the sound of a flat tire. I didn’t know whose it was. I scanned around. Brian McCulloch, who had won Day 1,  had a rear flat tire. Shawn Daurelio gave him his wheel, sacrificing his own chances in the process. Due to the previous attacks I found myself in a group of 3 guys going into 1 lap to go. I looked around. Hunter Grove, an incredibly strong rider from Incycle, was pulling through. Then the 3rd rider came to the front to drill it. It was my BMW teammate, Kyle Torres! I told Kyle again, “We can win!”. This time, I wasn’t talking out my ass. Kyle drilled it with 750m to go forcing Hunter to respond. Then, despite how much pain Kyle looked like he was in, he attacked again! Hunter hesitated briefly but then chased him down allowing me to slot in nicely behind Hunter. I attacked with 350m to go. A long way, but hoping my early sprint would catch Hunter off guard. It worked and I took home the win for day with Kyle placing 3rd! Two teammates on the Stage podium. I dropped my bike to the ground and jumped to Kyle, hugging him so hard. We both had smiles ear to ear. He rode out of his skin and it paid off. Then we started doing the math. I had won the overall Omnium in the process. My first race back and I had won. I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face.

Kyle Torres and Myself on the podium at OCCC.

It was a good day and I needed it. I was no longer at rock bottom.

 ONWARD and UPWARD.

Swinging For The Fences

San Juan Capistrano Train Station at dusk.

     I've been grinding away for awhile now.  It's been over two years since my life abruptly changed directions.  And, so far it's mostly been about putting in the work.  In the past month though, there have been certain things in my life that have caused me to step back and look at my life objectively.  Seeing my brother getting closer to realizing his dream.  Reconnecting with an old friend.  Listening to my daughter Chloe playing the piano.  All these things reminded me of the vibrancy of life.  I think back to when I was a young man, just starting out in the world.  I had such hope for things.  Anything felt possible.  Somewhere along the way, I think I lost that idealism. Maybe it was coming to terms with the reality of things.  Or, maybe it was coming face to face with disappointment time and again.  It's hard to be hopeful for the future when it feels like you've failed at a lot of the things you've worked towards.  

Chloe, playing theme from "Up".

      I try to reevaluate constantly.  Always doing my best to self correct and find my way forward - I have so many questions and insecurities that I am trying to overcome.  Answers aren't always forthcoming or readily available though.  Even in the age of Google I am still so amazed at how much people are faced with the same sorts of challenges and questions as hundreds of years ago.  I guess there's still an aspect of life that everyone has to figure out on their own.  Or maybe it's that life is so immutable and unknowable.  Regardless, I am always trying to figure things out and get a better understanding of things every day.

Night Horizon

      With my recent revelation of how disconnected I had become from that sense of wonder and hope that I had as a young man, I decided it was time to let go of the realities of life a little.  Yes, life will always be hard.  But, just because you can't have everything doesn't mean you can't get anything you want if you focus hard enough on it.  I guess the difference between where I am now and back then is that I have a better sense of what it takes to get things.  On the one hand, that clarity allows me to take things for what they are more.  On the other hand, I really enjoy that sense of unchecked possibility lying out before me.  I don't want to hold myself back from the hopes and dreams that are continually flitting about in my subconscious.  At this point I want to let them germinate a little, give them some water and let them grow.  

      I've spent so long confronted with the reality of things that I think I've gotten a little complacent.  Instead of continuing to push forward, I think I just learned to accept things for what they were.  Obviously that can be both a good thing and a bad thing.  But, I think what I lost that I am trying to reconnect with is the idea that things can always be better - that hope for something more.  In recent years when I thought about the possibility of exploring off into the void I was left wondering, "what if I fall?"  But then who knows?  Perhaps I will fly.   So, now I'm swinging for the fences.  I don't want to aim lower just so I wont be crushed if I fail.  After all, it's the journey and the process that matters.  And, I like things that are challenging.  

Lost and Found

     Years ago, my brother and I left our home of Whidbey Island to pursue our dreams.  He moved to LA to pursue a career in the film industry.  I followed him south a year later, moving to San Diego, to pursue a career in cycling.  We didn't know what we were doing, but we pushed and struggled forward.  We learned as much as we could, at USC film school for him and for me on the roads testing myself against other racers.  Time passed.  We established ourselves as adults.  We had children.  We marked the passage of time with small achievements - a win in a local race here, a short film project in India there.  When we would get together we would encourage each other to keep pushing forward.  We often lamented our lack of progress, but I always told my brother that as long as he stayed with it, he would make his dreams come true.  It didn't matter if it happened next year or when he was sixty.  Just stay at it, I told him.  Keep pushing forward.  

My brother and I with our kids.

     My dream of racing in the Tour ended when a car smashed into me and broke my neck.  When I saw my brother again I told him he had to keep going.  There was nothing to stop him from pushing forward.  Not the relentless passage of time that eventually catches up with athletes or the dangers of the road.  The only thing that would stop him would be the overwhelming pressures of life - making enough money, being a good husband and father, and managing the ups and downs that come along.  He could settle down, or he could keep pushing forward.  
       For years my brother has pursued the dream of being a Film Director.  He has worked on lots of little projects, but his dream has always been to direct feature films. To that end, he has spent countless hours writing and polishing a script that he wrote.  He has relentlessly worked on finding funding for his project.  Looking everywhere he could - asking friends, starting a Kickstarter, pursuing investors.  For years he would tell me about promising leads and opportunities.  As each turned out to be nothing more than false hope, he became more realistic and pragmatic.  He still kept working away, but he stopped getting excited about opportunities.  

      Last year it finally seemed as if the dream was getting off the ground.  My brother had secured funding for a small budget and was ready to move forward.  For several months he began pre-production on Whidbey Island - scouting locations, working with local producers, and trying to get everything moving forward.  In the end though, it didn't come together.  And, as he said, "I was so heartbroken when it fell apart, that I sobbed and then jumped in Puget Sound.  It was cold." 
      Time passed. Life goes on, even when things seem lost.  I've kept moving forward since my accident.  Coaching cyclists at the elite level.  Writing two books.  My brother worked on other projects in music and production.  We kept pushing forward.  Continuing to hope and believe that anything is possible.  
       Just when it seemed like things would never come together, something happened.  My brother wrote this, "out of nowhere, an old friend from school happened to read the script and he had raised enough money to double our budget so that we could make the movie properly.  Suddenly, the film had wind in its sails - and it
wasn't just a breeze, it was a gail.  And, just like that, it all came together.  Jason Patric and Cary Elwes came on board to play the leads and we cast 3 of the most amazing young actors I've ever seen to play the 3 lead kids.  We shot the film over the past 4 weeks, in Northern Ontario.  It is more incredible than I ever hoped or dreamed it could be."  

My brother Joseph on location Directing Cary Elwes.  

      

Lost and Found Stills.

     The title of the film is "Lost and Found".  An appropriate analogy for a project that seemed like it might never happen.  But, through relentless determination my brother made it happen.  It took him ten years to turn it into a reality.  TEN YEARS!  Like I always told him though, it didn't matter when he finally got it done.  What mattered is that he stayed at it.  He is my inspiration to keep pushing forward.  Dreams can become reality if you stay at them.  Semper Porro.  

P.S.  This song makes me think of my brothers movie.  I think it would be amazing if they could use it as the title track for the movie.  Either way, it's just a really good song.  

      

10 Years

     What does ten years add up to?  I've been pondering that thought for several months now.  My Anniversary is coming up and it's amazing to think how much time has gone by.  It feels both as if I have been married forever and also as if the time has gone by as quick as the blink of an eye.  

Holy smokes we were young...

     I remember my wedding day clearly.  It was an outdoor wedding in Seattle.  It was raining when I woke up.   The morning was relaxed.  Kate and I had breakfast with our parents and then we took a trip to the Pike Place Market for flowers. By noon the sun began to shine. Everything was so simple.  Kate's dress was only a few hundred dollars.  There were no big arrangements to be made, only our close family was going to be there.  We wanted the keep things simple and small.  The way we saw it, a wedding is just one day.  We were more focused on everything that would came after.   When the time for the ceremony came there wasn't a cloud in sight and the sky was a brilliant blue.  Everyone forgot about what they thought about the whole thing - like how young we were, or how we had only been together for a few months.  Kate was the first girl I had ever dated, and my family all thought I was crazy.  And then we were married.  It was simple and sweet.  We had a bite of the cake, took a few photos, and then we were off into married life.  That night it rained.

            The next few years were a blur.  Kate got really sick - almost died.  When she got a little better we moved to San Diego.  Kate wanted sunshine and I wanted to race my bike.  We were young and stubborn and stupid.  We had no money and no idea what we were doing.  We lived in a tiny, crummy apartment for three years.  I worked at a job for $7.75 and raced my bike.  Kate found work as a server.  Time passed.  Kate got pregnant.  And then she wasn't.  Two years passed.  Our daughter Chloe was born.  That was crazy.  We were still dirt poor, and our apartment barely fit us, and now we were parents.  There was no room for Chloe.  So, we put her in the closet.  I kept racing my bike.  I didn't have the support I needed, and I had no idea how to prepare properly, but I kept at it.  From time to time our family would subtly encourage us to move back to Seattle (sometimes not so subtly).  But, we kept plugging along.

    We eventually moved.  It was only to one bedroom apartment, but coming from a tiny studio it felt enormous.  Chloe still had to sleep in the closet, but we had a proper bedroom at last.  We upgraded from a futon to a bed.  We couldn't afford a new mattress, so we bought one off Craigslist.  Time passed.  We had little money for anything.  But, after saving for years, we bought a piano.  For years I had taught piano but didn't have one of my own, which seemed the height of absurdity.  Chloe loved it and I would play with her in my lap.

     Kate and I kept working.  We were careful with our money and lived simply.  There were good times and bad.  We had some big fights and occasional stretches when things were really rocky.  But mostly we were good.  The funny thing is we weren't overly romantic.  Our marriage wasn't what you would call passionate or exciting.  It was just comfortable.  We were happy to be together.  We would hang out and stay up late talking about all the things we wanted in life.  We supported each other and were there for each other through good times and bad.  Living so far away from our family meant that we were all we had.      

      Time passed.  When we were able to afford season  passes to Disneyland it felt like we were living a fantasy.  I kept racing and teaching piano.  Kate kept working as a server.  We moved to a bigger apartment and a few days later our second daughter Te'a was born.  Things felt like they were coming together.  And then a car hit me while I was riding my bike.  I broke my neck and that was an end to my dream of racing professionally.  I spent the next year trying to get my life back together and figure out a new direction for myself.

     After my accident, life got busier.  I started writing and began coaching.  Kate became a manger at her restaurant.  It took a year of waiting in legal limbo, but things eventually wrapped up with my accident.  Soon after we bought a house.  Chloe started first grade and Te'a went from crawling to walking to talking.  It's crazy how time flies.

      When I look back on the last ten years, there are so many memories.  We went from having next to nothing and working at crummy jobs to owning a house and pursuing careers.  We have two healthy, happy girls.  Everything is good, everyone is happy.  Money still feels tight, but we don't have to scrape together change to fill up the gas tank.  Sometimes, I find it incredible how far we've come and how much we've been through together.  We still occasionally aggravate the hell out of each other, but I think Kate is amazing and beautiful and awesome and cool.  Every year with her seems better than the last.  As crazy and stupid as I was to get married so young, it was by far the best decision I ever made.

     Here's to the next ten years together.

Progress

     When you apply yourself to a goal and push forward, it can be hard to see the progress.  Because of that, I think it's good to step back occasionally and appreciate how far you've come.  I started teaching my daughter piano when she turned six (a year and a half ago).  This is what we've accomplished so far. 

     

 Here's a short video featuring one of the athletes I coach -
Erick Sobey.  He's the one at the front.  

Rock Store - California from Franco Bicycles on Vimeo.

Followed by a win at Dana Point.  

And here's a picture of the various drafts of my book.  

Every day, I focus on moving forward.  Teaching, coaching, writing.  This is what I do.  There may not be a lot of progress every day, but it adds up over time...

Heart Will Head

     I've been teaching my whole life.  It started when I was very young.  My mom owned a school when I was growing up and I was always a few years older than everyone there.  Naturally I fell into the older brother role - giving what advice I could, keeping people in line, nurturing them and pushing them.  I guess you could say I was born to teach.  Being a teacher affords a unique perspective when it comes to human behavior.  It has allowed me to observe people as they learn new things and find their way forward.  In the course of all these years of teaching, I have come to recognize and value certain characteristics.  

     Lately I have been thinking a lot about how I want to raise my daughters and the kind of people I want them surrounded themselves with.  Before long they are going to be thinking about dating and building relationships.  What they probably won't realize is the impact that relationships will have on their lives.  Because of that, I want to explain to them what qualities to look for in other people.  It's only natural to be distracted by superficial qualities like physical attractiveness and charisma.  But, I will tell them what matters is Heart, Will, Head.  

     Experience has taught me that what's in a persons heart matters more than anything else - every other quality comes second.  I have dealt with my share of selfish, oblivious, and unreliable people.  Because of that, I have come to value people who are compassionate.  Giving without asking anything in return and consideration for others speaks to a persons character and points to who they are and how they behave when things are difficult.  Having gone through circumstances that nearly crushed me, I know the value of people who are there when I need them.  Everyone else just sort of falls away.  

       An indomitable will is something that I really admire.  Probably because I've seen so many people give up in the course of pursuing things.  At times it seems as if most people are only capable of doing things if they are easy or fun.  The reality of life though is that difficulty is to be expected.  There will always be obstacles.  Some people rise to the occasion.  Others fall to the side.  Many people talk about the value of friendship and loyalty, but the truth of things is expressed in actions not words.  To my mind, the people who rise to whatever obstacle put before them are the people worth knowing. 

     In the course of watching people as they learn and grow, I have observed that what's in a person's head is reflected in how their life unfolds.  Having a plan and a purpose is important to be able to move forward decisively.  When it comes to intelligence, I have learned that there are many different kinds and it's important recognize and value all the different varieties.  To a certain degree I understand the desire to be surrounded by people who think the same way, but I think it's incredibly valuable to be exposed to different ideas and perspectives.  Ultimately, what I think is important is an active and inquisitive mind.  People who have that can usually find a way forward regardless of circumstance.

My daughter Chloe playing Bach Prelude.  

     What I teach is ultimately a reflection of my beliefs and who I am.  To my mind, compassion, loyalty, purposefulness, and intelligence are the qualities that truly matter in a person. They are characteristics I try to exhibit in myself.  I know that when it comes to my daughters it is my actions that will speak louder to them than my words.  Because of that, I want to be the best possible example I can be for them.  I want them to have high standards for themselves and others.  If I can do that, I will be satisfied as a parent.