He Has the Keys to the Back Door

Our daughter Margaret gave us a tour of the United States Capitol.

She is working as an intern for a congressman. One of her jobs as an intern is to give private tours. If know you are going to be visiting Washington DC, in advance you can try to book a tour of the Capitol building through your Congressman’s office. Or you can have a daughter who is an intern who can do it for you.

Margaret put on her ID badge and then walked us around a long line to another entrance. She took us past large groups of school groups in matching t-shirts. She showed us exactly where to go. She disappeared and came back with tickets for us. We watched the introductory movie and then as the large group of people started into the Capitol building, she guided us away from them. She took us down side hallways. We didn’t have to fight or jostle with the crowds to see things. She had plans for how we could see things. She told us about the different rooms and told us different stories as we went. 

It was really fun.

It was also really fun to feel like we were doing something special. It made it even better because it was our daughter who was making it happen for us. I felt proud to be her Dad. She had her pass that let us have a special tour.

It took me back to childhood. It made me think of my dad.

My dad was a High School math and science teacher. 

We were going to the high school basketball game. But we didn’t park in the main parking lot with everyone else. We drove past the school and around to the back of the school. We went through the back entrance and then through the wood shop. My dad had keys that could get us in through the back door. My dad had us take our coats off in the shop and leave them there. We didn’t have to drag all of our coats into the gymnasium and awkwardly hold them through the game. 

The wood shop was big. The equipment was huge and a little bit scary. I didn’t know what all of the equipment did. My eyes were big as I looked at everything.  I didn’t really understand what was happening. But my dad was taking us in that way. It was cool to do something that was different than what everyone else was doing. I felt proud to be his son. He was important. He had the keys to the back door.

I have never told him or anyone but this has been a long standing and powerful memory for me. I thought it was really cool that he had keys that could let us in through the back way. 

He taught school for almost 40 years. He taught kids who grew up to be important people. He taught the kids of kids he had taught. And at least a few times he even taught kids of kids of kids he had taught. He left a huge impact on his community.  He also had the keys to his classroom. And he had the keys to the back door.

My girls were little when I started working at the hospital. I had my hospital ID and the keys to my office. I could bring my family and park in the physician’s parking spaces. We could stop at my office and leave our coats as we went into the hospital. I could guide them through back stairways or elevators to where we were going. When I was a resident, they would come and visit me on call. In those days the hospital nursery had a viewing window. They used to like to go and look through the window at all the brand-new babies. 

I would take them to the hospital cafeteria. It was just a hospital cafeteria. But to a child it could be pretty cool. They could pick out anything they wanted. We would then go through the line together and I would pay for everything with a single swipe of my hospital ID.

As we walked around the US Capitol building, the pattern stood out to me. I remembered being 6 years old and walking through the back door and through the woodshop to the basketball game. I remembered Margaret being a little girl, taking her through the hospital and into the hospital cafeteria and letting her pick out anything she wanted. And I was happy that for a moment Margaret could show us part of what her current world is. 

What is this emotion? Some of it is pride. Pride can be both a good thing and a bad thing. In this case I think it is just fine. To be able to value each other and what we do is indeed a good thing. It is not saying that we are better than everyone else. But it is saying that our family members have value. They were created to create and contribute and bring value to their world. It is okay and good to recognize and celebrate those good things that they do.

Some of it is being able to share a little bit of what is important to us with the people that matter the most to us.

This happens every holiday season. In the large family gatherings, you are with the people that are most important in your life. You have the idea that you will be able to see them and reconnect and somehow let them know what is going on in your life. And yet, this often is so very hard to do. You have a whole host of things that are important to you. You have worries, hopes, failings, successes, and things that drive you and in which you are pouring your energy. It is only natural that you would want the people most important to you to understand. You feel like you should of course be able to catch them up on things. But that is not always easy to do. It is hard to summarize all of your current life with a few words. 

It is like trying to describe a painting or maybe a song. When you try to put it into words, it doesn’t capture the power or the deep meaning. It comes off sounding empty – forced – contrived. “I saw a painting of an old man walking through a field.” Yes. And? “It is really powerful.” Ok? I guess so. If you say so.

You cannot in words capture all the subtleties and complexities of your life. You cannot in an instance pull them into your world so that they can feel it all. You want to. You may try to. Don’t be disappointed if the translation from the intensity of your life to an expression in words doesn’t go well. It isn’t easy to do this. It is however good for you to try. But don’t stress about this. They care about you. It just may not be completely possible for them to capture all of it.  

I think part of it is that we want them to know who we are now. You hope that they could understand, accept and value who you are in the context of your world. It is not possible to do this by just words. It cannot be achieved by just telling them about things or actions in your world. We try. It is not bad that we do this. But understand that in this flawed world you cannot in a few words pull them to a full understanding of who you are now.

We long for the kind of closeness where we truly understand and are understood. 

But it is a flawed world. There is only one who knows all of your inmost being. He is the one who has known you for all time. He is the one who knit you together in your mother’s womb. He is the one who saw all your pains and joys in childhood. He is the one who walked with you through the various friendships, crushes and relationships of adolescence. He is the one who went through the classes and the jobs and whatever has made the journey of your life. He is the one who knows all of you including the good and the bad, the lovely and the ugly, the successes and the failures. He is the one who stands by to grant you forgiveness and then acceptance (if you would ask Him and let Him), even with all of the flaws and scars of the past. He is the one and only one who can and does truly understand. 

But you want the approval and acceptance of your family. It may be your home, your relationships, your work, or the things that you have or even what you don’t have. You want them to see them. You hope that they can see parts of your life and be proud of you. That is only natural. It is okay.

I think it is great to think back even now with immense pride on who my dad was (is). That understanding has shaped a huge part of who I am, what I do and how I live my life. I am very proud that he (and my mother) chose to be teachers. I am proud that my dad chose to invest in others. I am proud of how much he is loved in their town. I am proud that he was always a good, kind and patient teacher. The way that he handled his classroom even now shapes how I handle myself at work. I am proud that he worked hard at everything he did. He cared about what happened. He thought about things. He did things. He did a lot of good. Those things also continue to shape and mold my decisions in everyday life. 

I am proud of so much that my father did and what he meant to so many people.

I am also proud that he was my dad who had the secret keys to the back door by the wood shop. 

What about you? What do you remember about your parents? Would you for just a minute celebrate the cool things that they did? Can you think back to a time when maybe they had the secret keys to a back door? Can you think about how that has shaped who you are? In your family gatherings can you look for what sort of back-door keys your other family members might have now? These might be important parts of their identity that they long for you to understand. Can you see them in your children? Can you look for what is important to them and celebrate it? Can you stand back and try to look at and appreciate the picture or the painting of the world that is their current world? Can you go beyond the words that they are trying to say to try to understand what they are hoping to communicate? Can you see and just a little understand and accept them and love them and their lives?

I am going back to Washington again tomorrow night. I am going to visit my daughter who is an intern for a congressman. She has an ID badge. She can take us on private tours of the United States Capitol. She knows her way around Washington, D.C. It is really cool. 

It is like she has the keys to the back door.