Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, January 31, 1994 TAG: 9401310272
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Joe Kennedy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Then he did one of those difficult things that parents are called upon to do: He gave up one of his leisure activities. For his family. Specifically, for his son.
Good had sung for years as a baritone with the Roanoke Valley Choral Society. The Monday night rehearsals were one of the high points of his week. But he's also active in his church. And David, his 10-year-old son, is active in sports - indoor and outdoor soccer, indoor and outdoor swimming, baseball. He is a Scout. He takes piano lessons. And he does well in school, so he has many extracurricular activities there.
Good, 38, is involved in most of these things, either as a coach or a leader or a helper of some kind. He could see that something in his life would have to go, and he decided that something would be the Choral Society.
``It was a mutual decision,'' he says, with a laugh. ``My wife helped me make it. I probably would not have made it on my own.''
It sounds like a small thing, but the decision is symbolic of parenthood, especially after our children have reached a certain age. Life is no longer about ourselves only. It's about our children. Recognizing this, and doing the right thing about it, can be a painful part of growing up. Painful, because we thought we had grown up.
Ask Good if forgoing the singing was difficult and he says, ``Heck, yes.'' But he notes that he's not the first person to quit something to spend time with his child. And he sees a bright side in that such sacrifices enable us to reflect on the sacrifices our parents made when we were young.
``We can appreciate them,'' he says. ``We can appreciate what they did.''
He, of course, is not the only member of his family to make a hard choice. Kathy, his wife, stopped teaching when David was born so she could stay at home with him. Now, with her son so busy, she says, ``I've stopped working on my master's degree. I decided this was not the right time in my life. I'll just have to wait until he's driving, or after he's finished college.''
Neither she nor her husband is complaining. They know that their schedules - he's a computer programmer at GE, she's a resource teacher at Green Valley Elementary in Roanoke County - are less crowded than those of people with two, three, four or more children. They cannot imagine how those parents get everything done.
A Salem man with daughters ages 15 and 13 says he can't, either. But somehow, he and his wife do. Where Michael Good still serves on church committees, sings in the choir and works with Habitat for Humanity, they have had to drop many of their personal activities, though he still finds time to play basketball and tennis each week.
Their daughters are so active, ``we can never put together 30 minutes in a row without having to go somewhere. There is no freedom to do what you want to do.''
The situation may improve, he says, when the older girl begins to drive. Ideally, she'll be chauffering her younger sister as well as herself. For now, their life bears no resemblance to the so-called norm.
``You don't get home after work like Ozzie and Harriet and have a meal,'' he says. ``You throw your stuff down'' and pack up the kids and their gear and go watch a game, or sit through a school activity, or do something else you might not have thought deeply about before your children came along.
Michael Good is correct in saying our parents sacrificed for us, but it was a little different when we were young. Many mothers didn't work. Day care was all but unknown. Planned activities at school or on the ballfield were far less numerous, and there wasn't the constant demand for a father or, more often, a mother to meet those after-work deadlines.
``I don't know how people do it if they don't have good kids,'' the fellow from Salem says, meaning children who work hard in school without having to be hounded about it. ``My kids are much more responsible than I was, and maybe than I am right now.''
That, perhaps, is one of the benefits of today's whirlwind pace.
There is some solace in knowing that none of us can do all the things he or she would like to do. It makes it easier to choose.
``I needed to make a commitment to my family and start spending more time, and I'm not willing to give up church because I consider it very important,'' Michael Good says. After this year, he'll go off several church committees and probably scale back his involvement.
This will cause him ``lots of pain,'' he admits. ``I am not a person who easily knows how to say no. I am just now trying to learn how to say no.''
Kathy Good, a Sunday school teacher, team mom and Scout leader, says postponing personal pursuits ``was probably easier for me.'' This may not be unusual. We men often often find fellowship not one on one but in groups, at the office or among friends. Standing in the wings while our children take center stage can require no little adjustment.
``People have to make these decisions,'' Kathy Good says, sensibly. ``We're not first any more.''
by CNB