And Then There Were None

Diane and I are blessed with three children who have made us proud but more importantly, have lived lives that we believe make them proud. I didn’t say there haven’t been “bumps in the road” as there clearly have been, but they have been successfully navigated and all three, their spouses, and children doing just fine. When we get into the 4th Quarter, I can’t speak for others, but to me, my family is pretty much, “it.”  They give me great pleasure and we are a family full of significant and long-lasting memories. I don’t know if this makes us unique but one of the things I take greatest pleasure in is a texting tree that includes Jennifer, Gordon, Ryan, Diane, and me. I reluctantly got into this link, but when the family finally convinced me that I absolutely had to learn to text— I did. Diane came up with the phrase, “The Five” and we all participate with comments, observations on life, and simple random thoughts about what is happening in our lives. It keeps us connected and provides both substance and humor.  

When I initiated the “gordyandthe4thquarter.blog,” Diane and Ryan encouraged me to post some of the past entries I wrote for the “Across the Miles” column published in WIU’s Western News.  Blog #38 highlighted Jennifer and John’s wedding and 16-year-old Gordon finally beating Gordy in “driveway basketball” was #48.  What follows is an entry that appeared in the Fall of 1998. 

I’d been through this twice before, so it shouldn’t have been difficult, but I knew it would be.  As we drove from Macomb to the University of Illinois to drop off son Ryan for his freshman year, my mind was filled with a thousand memories of events never to be repeated.  You see, Ryan is the end of the line for Diane and me, the youngest of our three children preparing to embark on the college experience. 

For us, no more piano recitals, no homecoming or prom dances, no more posters to be made for student elections, no school conferences, no sitting in the stands at athletic events, and no one living in the bedroom next to ours.  We were about to become empty nesters.  Where had the years gone?  Since the birth of Jennifer in 1971, followed by Gordon III in 1974, and Ryan in 1980, there had always been children in our house.  That 27-year era was about to end. 

As I got closer to Champaign/Urbana, I glanced in the rearview mirror at the sleeping man child in the back seat.  Had we prepared him for what lies ahead?  We would soon know.  I must admit that raising Ryan was never much of a challenge—his brother and sister had given us plenty of rehearsal time.  As a matter of fact, Diane and I frequently joke about how easy Ryan was to raise, so much so, that when we had something of a serious nature to tell him, we would say, “Ryan, your mom and I are about to have a parenting experience with you.”   

Upon arrival we did the usual things:  check him into his residence hall, picked up his carpeting, rented a micro fridge, shopped a little, and then it was time to say goodbye.  This was also the hardest part for me—saying goodbye.  I knew none of our lives would ever be the same.  I gave him a hug and didn’t look back—I couldn’t bear to see Diane say goodbye to the last of our three children.  These rites of passage in our lives can be difficult, but they are inevitable. 

Life goes on and Diane and I are adjusting to our new status as sole tenants of our home.  It’s been interesting.  Meals for two, no kids’ events to attend, and the house to ourselves makes for a different lifestyle.  So, what’s next—marriages, grandchildren?  I look in the mirror and think “Surely, I’m not old enough for that.  Heck, I’m still playing slow-pitch softball.” 

One bit of advice—to those of you with young ones still at home, enjoy them and remember that a hundred years from now it will not matter how large your bank account was or how big your house was or the kind of car you drove, but it will matter if you made a difference in the lives of your children. 

Ryan ended up graduating “on time” (bless him), from the University of Illinois and then earned a law degree from DePaul University. He became partner in a law firm in Chicago and then made a wonderful career change to a major international insurance firm that allows him to spend time with his lovely and talented wife, Margaret, 6-year-old son Dan, and Lady the Wonder Dog.  

This seems to be an appropriate place to relay a Ryan Taylor event when he took the Illinois Bar Exam in July 2005.  Graduates register online to take the exam in Chicago and each person is assigned a 5-digit number.  Once the exams are graded, the Illinois Bar Association posts all the numbers so that nervous grads can see if there is a “pass” or “fail” sometime around October 5^th.  Diane not only knew Ryan’s exam number but also memorized it—not sure why but she did.  It was homecoming, and we were involved with numerous activities at the Alumni House.  Late that afternoon, Diane disappeared to my office, then came down to visit, then took a glass of wine upstairs to my office, reappeared to say hi to alums before taking another glass of wine upstairs.  What the heck was going on?  Then, she suddenly reappeared and gave me a huge hug, whispered in my ear, and announced that Ryan Scott Taylor had passed the bar exam!  Looking over the computer screen one more time, we decided to phone Ryan who was NOT checking the website.  Yep, she got to call Ryan, asked him again if the 5 digits were correct, and had the pleasure of telling him the results.  What a memorable day!