Take Me Home Pt. 3

There are as many ways to parent as there are parents in this world. But there is one way to parent that wins every time. And that's doing it intentionally. This show is about helping things go right before they can go wrong. Each episode is chosen to help parents like you, who may be overwhelmed or uninspired. Find the ideas and motivation to give their best efforts to the people and place that matters the most. I'm Dr. Tim, Thayne, author of the book and host of the podcast, not by chance, I believe that a family's success and happiness is not by chance. So welcome to the podcast built especially for intentional families. Let's jump in. Hey, everybody, thank you for joining me today. We are on our third episode of The Take Me Home Series where members of the homeward bound team share experiences around the idea of going home again. And today we have a special treat for you. We have four of our team members. The first one is by Janette and I actually heard her share her story at our recent advance here at homeward bound. And I have to tell you, I'll just let you brace yourself a little bit, you will feel some emotions. You might even shed a tear too, but it's an amazing story. She'll be followed by Emily, one of our transition coaches out in Philadelphia area. And we're really grateful to have her on our team. Emily's followed by Eddie who's in Colorado, and I was able to hear his story as well at this last advance. And you're gonna get some laughs out of that for sure. And the last one today is Haley Haley lives in Utah. And she's one of our our more hipper and cooler coaches. He's younger, and an amazing coach already. So I think you're gonna love what they have to share. And I hope it evokes some emotions for you and some memories for you about going home.

Hi, my name is Julia. And I want to tell you a story about a really cool guy, my dad. Growing up he was just that a dad. He taught me how to ride a bike helped me with my math, wiped away my tears and kicked my butt when I needed it. We had a lot of fun together. He was pretty soft spoken and gentle, but he was tough when he needed to be. He loved fart jokes, Harley Davidsons stray animals and peanuts, the ones in the salty shell and the dry roasted ones that come in a jar. But before he was my dad, he was a rock star. He never made it famous that he lived out his dream of playing in a band. He was the lead singer of a band called for good reasons. They played at a bar in Vail, Colorado. He played the guitar and the mandolin and was also the lead singer. He drove a gold Stingray Corvette. I can only imagine how cool he was No wonder my mother was smitten by him. Although I didn't get to see my dad as a rock star. He brought music into my life. We grew up going camping and our green and white Nomad trailer and fishing in our little tin boat on the beautiful and pristine Fish Lake. My dad was always trying to catch a big Makena in between untangling our fishing lines. Every night without fell, we would sit around the campfire all snuggled up. And my dad would play the guitar and we would all sing along. Our favorites were from John Denver, The Beatles and Peter, Peter, Paul and Mary. I didn't know any different and I just thought everyone did that. My favorite song of all time was back home again by John Denver. Hey, it's good to be back home again. Sometimes this old farm feels like a long lost friend. My home definitely felt like a long lost friend. We lived out in the country and had lots of animals. My dad bred labs and we always had random litters of kittens. One night I was sleeping out on the deck with my siblings. When we awoke in the morning and we kept hearing little meowing stones and we couldn't figure out where it was coming from. We frantically searched underneath the deck and all around the yard trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. We were baffled. When I went to gather my sleeping bag to put it away. It felt a little heavy. I looked down on the bottom of my sleeping bag and there was the mother cat and all of her kittens. She had crawled down in my sleeping bag in the middle of the night and given birth to her kittens. My childhood wasn't especially outrageous, but it was full of little experiences like this. I cherished the times with my dad. As I grew up and got married, my dad's health started to deteriorate. He was still always around with a smile, but I knew he never felt well. He still continued to play the guitar and sing for us every chance we had had, we still tried to go camping and share the campfire experiences with our own kids. Luckily, my older brother inherited my dad's talent of singing and playing the guitar. So they would often sing together. And we would all join in. This became so special to all of our family. We would even gather around on Christmas Eve when we were all together and have a sing along. My dad's health continued to get worse, he was diabetic, and often his blood sugar would drop so low in the middle of the night that he would have to be rushed to the hospital. He would spend a few days in the ICU entail, he was able to come back home again. This continued to become more and more frequent and combined with other health issues. He was losing his strength and will. I take pride in the fact that my mom knew she could always call me when my dad was sick, and I would be there. One night, it got really bad. My mom called me in the middle of the night, and I rushed over, he was really sick and could hardly even get out of bed to go the bathroom. We knew he needed to get to the hospital immediately or he wouldn't make it. We kept begging him to try and get up with our help. And he just shook his head. He looked at me and pointed toward heaven. I said, Dad, you want to go home. And he gave me a nod. As hard as it was for us to accept. We knew this was his time. We call hospice and they came right away. Instead of a hospital bed right in his bedroom. I dressed the bed carefully and lovingly with Harley Davidson sheets. And we got him all comfortable and situated. My whole family came in gathered around his bedside. And I'm sure you can imagine the scene. My brother pulled out his guitar and we started our campfire sing along. We all joined in singing back home again. It's The Sweetest Thing I know of just spending time with you. It's the little things that make a house a home, like a fire softly burning and supper on the stove. The light in your eyes. That makes me warm. We were all together that night is my dad went home. We didn't have a spectacular life. But we had all the little things that matter most. And to us our dad was a rock star. Just the other day I was cleaning out my car and I found a jar of dry roasted peanuts under the seat from our last road trip. My dad's favorite. I was so famished, so I popped it open and started eating them. All of a sudden, I had this overwhelming feeling of my dad being right there with me. So we ate peanuts together and chatted about life. I know he's back home again. But I know he's watching over me and my family until we meet again.

As a bonus parent, I didn't get the opportunity to watch your children grow from the beginning stages. I didn't get that moment when you walk in the front door, and the little one comes running up to give you a hug. So excited to see you after a really long workday. I overtime have gotten the teenage grant somewhere between a greeting and a warning sign that they need space. As a coach, I get the opportunity to utilize my experience within my own household. It's how I tried to stay authentic, practice what you preach. This oftentimes results in unfavorable limits and expectations from my teens. Most times I hear but other kids get to have their phone all night or I don't understand why we have to do our homework before we get our games. I let my teens vent out their frustration advocate for themselves and occasionally I recommend they do their own research to determine if a rule should be adjusted. I've gone so far as to tell my guys the next time they have a doctor's appointment, ask the pediatrician if she thinks it's a good idea for them to have their phones all night. If it's yes, then all in the role. They never really ask and well, I know what my pediatricians gonna say. Why one weekend, I was headed to my first family home visits since maternity leave. It was heart wrenching to leave my three month old at home. I typically do not think my grunting teenagers missed me often or even pay attention to the fact that I am gone for the weekend. I call home and check in as frequently as I am April. While gone this time I received text messages from all three of my teenage boys sending me pictures of their baby brother. I even received a text message from my 15 year old who said You know, I don't like your rules, but I thought about it. They work. I'm doing really well in basketball, my schoolwork I really am doing so Much better than before. It was exciting to celebrate his wins from afar. Being a bonus mom has its challenges. You're coming into an already established family with your own perspectives on how a household should hold should run, and assimilating as a parental unit, as this stranger to some degree. There are days that I really daydream of what it may have been like to hold these young men as babies. Would they be excited when I walked through the front door when they were four? Would they run to me arms wide open and give me the biggest hug. I recall when our oldest now 25 would wait for me at the front steps of the house. After I returned from a retreat. He would have his head down looking at something or daydreaming. I could see him as I drove up, pick his head up at every car that drove by before mine. And just as I started parallel parking in front of the house, he he would jump up and run to the car full excitement and ready to tell me everything I had missed. Now, with an 11 1315, and five month old, they each show me glimmers of home differently. My 13 year old will ask when I will be home. And if I am more than 10 minutes late Humes downstairs to ask my wife why I'm late and how much longer once that car pulls up, though, and I come out of the driveway and I go upstairs and I put my suitcase in my bedroom. He sneak attacks me with a hug. My 11 year old will ignore that I'm going anywhere that weekend until it's the day of then you see signs of sadness. He is the one to give me a good hug when I leave. It makes sure to let me know he will help take care of the baby while I'm gone. He always does an amazing job helping his mom with any loose ends. He knows I'm usually the one to cover. My 15 year old hasn't been around much in this last year. And quite honestly, on this last trip. I was not sure how he would react to me traveling. He seemed fine with me being gone and there weren't too many teenage indications. He was upset I would miss Labor Day weekend. It's been the toughest on the two of us to set expectation, explore opportunities and work together as a family. On this particular trip, I drove home and saw from the front window the curtain peel back in the flash of that moment, he had the greatest excitement. He was smiling from ear to ear, I could see that connection of what it may have been like to know him as a toddler. I went to turn the knob on the door of the house only to have it open for me with our three months on one hip and my 15 year old with the hugest smile on his face. Give me the greatest hug in that connection. I knew what it must have been like for him to be a toddler and music have come home work just as I had daydreamed times before. There's something about time away from home. I may not have gotten to see the first steps of our oldest four boys or experienced them running up to me as toddlers after a long day of work, but there is something different when you've had to work out a relationship as we all have. It is a whole new experience of coming home. That's what this work is all about. After a long weekend of working with a family I am reminded to take it home. The amazing work we do, the passion we have and the family values we encapsulate a few years ago my buddies and I went on a ski trip the week after Christmas. All three of our wives were pregnant. And this should have been an indication that this was not a smart idea. My buddies didn't help me out either as they both had older boys and they should have known better. I was the new one here. I didn't know any better. We piled into my wife's Jeep Liberty CRD four by four which was the best option we have if we encountered some snow on the trip. We were driving from Texas all the way up to Steamboat Springs, Colorado and it was a great time then one of the guys on the trip is a artists type funny awkward at times but a lot of fun. Justin is a big boisterous personality. The best kind of guy to watch a show or movie like Bruce Almighty because he's going to have an outrageous laugh to go with it. He was the kind of guy that would ask Things that weren't quite appropriate for the situation. But that's part of what made it funny. It was a great time for the three days that were there skiing, snowboarding, doing all the great stuff. But the last day, we knew that a storm was blowing in. We had got worried that it was going to be a pretty big one and we had a decision to make. We could either ski for half a day and drive home or leave early and trial and try to beat the storm. I failed to mention this part of the story. I was the only one who had driven and snow before they had zero experience. So we decided to leave early and start driving. About two hours into the drive it started to snow. We drove through another seven plus hours through that snow. It's beautiful down through the heart of Colorado. But with every inch of snow piled onto the road. Both of them are getting more nervous. Justin is pulling on the OS handle in the car if you don't know what that is ask a teen near you. And sometimes he's muttering under his breath. Then on the other hand is singing to whatever is playing along on the radio from the backseat. Finally, we made it to Pueblo because the road tone pass over New Mexico was shut down, had a good dinner, went and watched Night at the Museum at the theater and tried to get some sleep. The next morning we got up got on the road and the snow on I 25 was piled up high enough that if I rolled down the windows on my Jeep Liberty, I could touch the piles of snow on the side of our car. The return pass was still closed so we had to head west towards Alamosa then dropped south to Albuquerque, all while driving on highways that really weren't highways at all. There were two lane roads and they were only partially clear of snow that had gotten in the three to four foot range. With every turn and every inch of snow Justin continues to pull on the OS handle. And Ben continues to sing from the backseat and I'm still driving. Slowly we made our way down through New Mexico towards i 40 stopped at a gas station and made a turn onto the interstate. That interstate would take us straight to Texas and we thought we were home free. Just a few miles later. All we see are red tail lights and cars as far as we can see over the next hill. We stopped and sit in our Jeep for over two hours. I'm getting antsy by this time Justin is sleeping. Ben is still singing, I get out of the Jeep. Because I'm frustrated. I want to see what's going on. I walk over into the media and the snow is up past my knees even down that far south. I walk to the other side of the highway which is completely clear. Apparently they had shut down the highway in both directions. We aren't going anywhere. It's dark. I'm hungry. I want to get home. So I did what any logical person would do. I began to stomp down a path across the medium. I figured the worst that could happen is that we would get stuck trying and having another adventure of trying to find someone to pull us out. Best case scenario we can go back the other direction back towards Albuquerque. After a while Ben and Justin wonder what I'm doing. I tell them they groggily put on boots and come up to help a bit. We've spent more than an hour stomping our path. across that medium what we hoped would be our path to freedom. Other people around us begin to ask what's happening and as we line up the Jeep to make the attempt. Others in cars are cheering us on. I put the Jeep into four wheel load go to the edge and punch it. We make the turn in the median and bust out of the snow filled area it back onto the highway going the other direction freedom. We drive all the way back to Albuquerque catch the last room in a motel and get about six hours of sleep. Day three i 40 is still closed in both directions. We decided to help South to El Paso before driving to our homes in North Houston. It's the only way we can avoid the snow and ice at that point. 15 hours later that day, a total of 35 plus hours of driving over three days time, two of which was in Snowmageddon. We made it home to our three pregnant wives who are all still anxiously awaiting for us at Justin's house. Two days past our intended arrival. I hug my wife and then my tired, road weary delusional state. All I could muttered to my seven month pregnant wife was oh, I think you got bigger. So I was what many would call a spunky kid growing up. I asked a lot of questions and had a lot of feelings. I remember this experience where I had to be a part of a special reading group because my reading level was behind for my age. This group met during my classmates free time and I hated it. I was so embarrassed and I remember feeling you know pretty bad about myself. It was My turn to read. And lo and behold, I decided to say NO. The kind little ta asked me again and I proceeded with another No. Then I got up, ran out the door and ran straight to my house. The school was only three blocks away from where I lived. So I knew the parts really well. You know, this experience really affected my confidence over the next few years of school. It wasn't until I made it to college that I found a love for learning and that I was actually far more capable than I even knew. Growing up, I didn't have much. By much. I mean things. I had a lot of love. I had a lot of siblings, but not a lot of extras. I'll circle back to this in a little bit. When I was in my undergrad finishing up my degree in public health, I went on a study abroad to Thailand. The intention of this trip was to increase my knowledge of health transitions taking place throughout different parts of northern Thailand. Lots of focus on epidemiology and nutrition. As you can see, my studies had nothing to do with social work therapy or coaching. I was about two weeks into my study abroad, when I had an experience that you know, really changed the outcome of my entire career path. I visited this orphanage called the Agape home. This beautiful place housed over 90 children who were HIV positive. All of which had been born for mothers who had been looked down upon in society and did not have a place to raise their children. When I first walked in, I felt an abundance of love and connection. I didn't see a bunch of sick kids. I saw little feet kicking soccer balls, sweet teenage girls playing with each other's hair, caretakers, rocking babies to sleep and young, curious beautiful minds looking up at me, and wondering what I was doing and why I looked different than them. We shared a meal together and played on the swings. This was their home and being in it for the six hours that I was changed me. The woman who started the organization shared her experience of how a planned two weeks service trip to Thailand ended up being a lifelong journey of living, serving and providing a beautiful home for the seat babies and adolescents. She shared why she named the orphanage the Agape home. Agape means the love of God is unconditional. She wanted everyone who entered that home to feel love. Even though the world sometimes made them feel just the opposite. This experience along with my upbringing, and just an immense Desire to Learn led me on the path to social work therapy and ultimately here to homeward bound. I think back on my time in Thailand frequently, I remember thinking to myself while I was there, how, how do these people do it? How do they find so much joy, even though they were adult some of the worst cards I've literally ever seen. I think I know what it was though. It was their outlook, as well as their sweet innocence for not knowing anything but what they had. They love the little things like a new chapstick or some donated cookies. The few months following my return home are ones full of emotion, gratitude, soul searching and fullness. I'll take the not a lot of things any day. Because you know what I did have? I had safety. I had laughter. I had joy. And I had a home full of love. Just like the sweet homes I visited. It wasn't about what was in it. But who was in it. I will always consider the Agape home one of the most precious homes I've ever been to. I just hope that I can provide that same feeling of connection and kindness to others. When they step into my home or when I step into there's

parents, your time is valuable, and I'm grateful you spent some of it with us. What you're intentionally doing in your home life is inspiring and unmatched in its importance and long term effects. Ask yourself, What am I going to do because of what I've learned today?