USED vs. LOVED
While a man was polishing his new car his 6 yr old son picked up a stone and scratched lines on the side of the car.
In anger the man took the child´s hand and hit it many times;
not realizing he was using a wrench.
At the hospital the child lost all his fingers due to multiple fractures.
When the child saw his father...
with painful eyes he asked ´#dad when will my fingers grow back?´
The man was so hurt and speechless;
he went back to his car and kicked it a lot of times.
Devastated by his own actions.....
sitting in front of that car he looked at the scratches;
the child had written ´LOVE YOU #dad´.
The next day that man committed suicide. . .
Anger and Love have no limits;
choose the latter to have a beautiful lovely life.....
Things are to be used and people are to be loved.
But the problem in today´s world is that
People are used and things are loved.
In this year let´s be careful to keep this thought in mind:
Things are to be used
but People are to be loved.
Watch your thoughts; they become words.
Watch your words; they become actions...
In our family, mom and #dad are Longhorns, our first two kids are Aggies and we’re hoping our last one is a Longhorn. It gives us family fun on Thanksgiving Day.
The upheavals of adolescence silenced ’A Christmas Carol’ for a few years. I became a firebrand atheist. Christmas - humbug! Too commercial! Then I became an agnostic. Christmas was a pro-forma affair, basically a chore. Buy mother a book, #dad a new tie, my brother and sister small gifts. Pretend thanks for the fountain pens and shirts I received.
We always had lutefisk for Christmas dinner, after which #dad read from the Norwegian Bible.
Our last jam session was this past Christmas. #dad played his harmonica, mom sang in English and Italian, and I played guitar. I’m so happy that we could share that musical experience for one last time.
Like my #dad, I have a Christmas party most years. I like to celebrate and see as many people as possible.
It was, you know, probably 80 degrees out in L.A., and my #dad took me outside and there was snow. At the time, I thought, ’Every kid doesn’t have snow in their backyard on Christmas?’
My parents were kind of over protective people. Me and my sister had to play in the backyard all the time. They bought us bikes for Christmas but wouldn’t let us ride in the street, we had to ride in the backyard. Another Christmas, my #dad got me a basketball hoop and put it in the middle of the lawn! You can’t dribble on grass.
Come Christmas Eve, we usually go to my mom and #dad’s. Everybody brings one gift and then we play that game when we all steal it from each other. Some are really cool, others are useful and some are a bit out there.
When you have kids, you instantly feel that you do not want to do them wrong. Those #dads that go off to Florida and start a new life, I couldn’t imagine that: seeing my kid once every Christmas, every three years. If I’m gone for six days it feels like too much.
Working with my #dad was such a gas. We approached the work in a similar way. We only made two films together when I was an adult, Tucker, and Blown Away, but it was so much fun to play with your parent like that.
I get that same queasy, nervous, thrilling feeling every time I go to work. That’s never worn off since I was 12 years-old with my #dad’s 8-millimeter movie camera.
I think I’ve got my business notions and my sense for that sort of thing from my #dad. My #dad never had a chance to go to school. He couldn’t read and write. But he was so smart. He was just one of those people that could just make the most of anything and everything that he had to work with.
I’ve seen women who don’t have great relationships with their #dads, and it all comes down to this: You have to tell girls you love them every day.
When my mom ran for the Senate, my #dad was there for her every step of the way. I can still hear her saying in her beautiful voice, ’Why should women have any less say than men, about the great decisions facing our nation?’
I had a 2-week courtship with a fellow student in the fiction workshop in Iowa and a 5-minute wedding in a lawyer’s office above the coffee shop where we’d been having lunch that day. And so I sent a cable to my father saying, ’By the time you get this, #daddy, I’ll already be Mrs. Blaise!’
Recently, I was in Bernalda, my #dad’s ancestral home town in Italy. He has just refurbished a palazzo and turned it into a hotel, so we had my sister’s wedding there. It was beautiful.
My #dad was in the army. World War II. He got his college education from the army. After World War II he became an insurance salesman. Really, I didn’t know my #dad very well. He and my mother split up after the war. I was raised by my maternal grandmother and grandfather, and by my mother.
It was definitely a part of our life. I mean, my mom had both her brothers and her fiancee in Vietnam at the same time, so it wasn’t just my #dad’s story, it was my mom’s story too. And we definitely grew up listening to the stories.
My #dad raised me with some good advice: ’Always tell the truth. Always shoot from the hip. You might not have many friends, but you’ll never have enemies, because people will always know where you’re coming from.’
I wasn’t sure how my #dad would react. There was an agent sitting behind them and he told me he was embarrassed to watch the scenes. My parents have always been very open. They trust my decisions.
My #dad was a ham, too. He could sell those women anything. Of all his sons, I was the only one he could trust to sell as well as he could. I was proud of that.
Young people know how important it is for #dads to be involved in their lives. As I travel the country and talk with students, some of them tell me that their lives would be totally different if their father was around.