Family, what does it mean to you?  Memorable moments around the dinner table?  Trips together?  Parents that love each other?  For me family is all this and so much more.  From time-to-time I’m reminded how much I value it.  They say you don’t appreciate what you have until it is gone, I don’t know if that is true.  It isn’t for me. Somehow from a young age I learned what family could do for you and I never let go of that notion.  I recall my brother making fun of me at dinner and me getting in trouble for it, but somehow that never really upset me.  I was glad for that time because at least I had a brother.   I never had a sister but I’m sure that would have had an immense impact on me as a person too.  Who knows what I’d have become had I a sister in my home.  

I recall my older brother bringing girls home when I was about 9 years old, he was 19 and I remember him bragging on my mom’s tacos, “You have to try my mom’s tacos.”  I somehow remembered that always.  Funny thing is my mother cooks some amazing southern dishes, black eyed pees, fried okra, cornbread and more.  Tacos?  But it’s true, she taught me how to cook an authentic taco, deep fried shells with the cheese melted in.  But that is another story.

Eventually I too brought girls home and I too wanted them to try my mom’s tacos.  

Then there is my father.   He was someone I always thought of as SuperMan.  He had a speed boat and he used to take my older brother out in it.  They played basketball together in the city, just a walk down the street.   He took my big brother to Italy where I hear my brother drove Italian girls all over on the back of a moped scooter.  My father was the leader of the family and he was a mans man.   When I grew older enough, times changed slightly and my brother had a terrible motorcycle accident that had almost cost him his life and almost cost him his leg too.  He had one leg shorter than the other but managed to still play softball on the church softball team one year with my father and myself.  Five of my best friends played too and it was an amazing experience.   We Hindsley’s seemed the center of attention too, I played center field, my brother managed third base of all places and my father pitched.   I never told them how happy I was, I just was happy.  I was happy and I didn’t know it.  I was happy to be doing something as simple as playing a sport with both my father and brother.   Later in life like now, I recall those moments and wish for more.   

My family was to me what a family should always be.  Two parents that loved each other and they two always stood by us boys.  Despite some of the most embrassing moments my parents balanced tempered punishment with love.  Once when I was in the 4^th grade I was in the woods the day of my birthday.  Me and a friend were in a cardboard box looking at magazines and comics.   He started a fire in the box with matches.  I remember telling Marc,  “You are going to start a fire, don’t do that.”  I think I called him stupid or something else too but I do remember telling him not to start the leaves on fire.   Sure enough a fire broke out.  I ran to a neighbors house and she called the fire department and then she ran to the woods with a rake and swept more leaves into the fire.  I said, “What are you doing!” She said something about it but I don’t remember her exact words.  I drew from later that she stopped the fire by feeding it’s center instead of letting it spread.  But that didn’t help me in the end.  I ran home crying.  I was utterly ashamed.  I went to my room my parents came home from work early and I remember my dad in his suit and my mom still in her work clothes coming to my room trying to talk to me but I hid under my bed.  I stayed there until my party that night and still didn’t want to come out.  I felt I was the worst person in the world and didn’t deserve a party.  But in the end, my parents knew that I was punishing myself and for that reason they didn’t cancel the party. 

I do remember smiling some at the party but for me, on the inside I was somber and couldn’t be happy.  I was so ashamed.   It was strange at the time though, I thought, “Dad gets mad if I leave the milk out but he let me have my birthday party when I started the woods on fire?”  It took time for me to understand totally.  It wasn’t just this instance that taught me the values I’d later learn myself.  I recall once using a pop-corn popper without permission and my mother said to me, “Son, I love you. I can’t be mad at you for wanting to pop popcorn and you felt we wouldn’t give you permission.  You have to believe we won’t always say no.”  Now this situation was more complex than I make this out but again I learned my parents didn’t just punish me at every turn simply because they said something would be a certain way in our home. 

I grew, and eventually my mother’s belief in God impacted me the most.  From a very young age she would tell me about people that believed in God.  I remember her telling me John Wayne (legendary American actor) believed in God.  Every movie I ever watched with John Wayne it it... I thought of my mother telling me, “John Wayne believes in God.”  Then many years later, when John Wayne died, the news casts remembered him and one thing stood out... “John Wayne believed in God.”  My mothers words rang in my head again.  She wanted me to know believing in God wasn’t just something for me, it was for everyone, God had to be out there.

My family taught me to value family.  

Once my brother had taken up for me.  I recall that moment and others.  My brother thought I was a total pest and pain in the ass when I was a boy, but when the chips were down he stood by my side.  Even before I can remember I know of stories of him taking care of me.  When we lived on Harrison Street in Wilmington there was once a large parking lot behind our row home.  Our back yard was the high end of a 20 foot wall.   I recall every winter all the snow being pushed into the lot.  These resulted in snow tunnels my brother and his friends would build.  I recall a story my mother told me about those snow mounds.  She told me I was a toddler and one collapsed on me. My brother dug me out.   That I don’t remember that moment thankfully. However I do remember once when I was perhaps 6 years old... and I remember it to this day when I was at Port Herman in Maryland on the upper Chesapeake (I learned where this was when I grew up).  I was in an inner-tube floating away from shore.  I saw the shoreline getting smaller, I cried for help.   It was my brother that swam out to save me.  I grew up with this amazing sense of him being capable of anything, and as much as I didn’t like how he ignored me when I wanted a play mate because of our age difference, I always felt he loved me and that us being family amounted to the ultimate trump to any friend he had.

All these things taught me family values.  I have grown through many selfish ways and perspectives that we all feel when we are in our teens and twenties.   Even then I wasn’t lost because of the values my parents instilled upon me.  I lived in a home with love and a family that cared about each other.  In the back of my mind I knew one day I would want the same for myself.  Sure I wanted some things to be better, for anything lacking in my own family, but I did mostly want for my own family what I had with the family I grew up with. When it comes down to it, your family is your lifeline.  Without them you have no lifelines.  I value them and the values they imparted on me.

My mother and father have been married over 50 years.  An amazing feat in today’s world and I understand now that is perhaps mathematically impossible for me now with my own divorce. But I do remember the days when I would be away from my own home, my wife and child.  I imagined her at home with the lights on at our bedside looking to the open space in the bed where I should be.  That sense of being appreciated and knowing someone wanted me to be asleep by their side meant I had my lifeline.  My family values had taught me to value my own family.   That time when I flew on a business trip to Florida still lingers in my mind.  I thought of how much I hated to fly. I still do.  I fear planes and that’s life.  But at the time I was very upset, I remember thinking, “If something happens to me, my son lives a life without a father.”  That broke me up.  My fear of flying did one good thing for me. It reminded me to appreciate what I had without losing it.   Because I didn’t die on a plane that day, I now have gone on to manage his little league team.   I’ve had countless memories with my son with my second son, the three of us have gone on to experience the circle of life that my own father brother and myself have traveled.  

I sometimes lament the loss of my older brother in that he never met my wife.  He never met my son’s.  He never got to see all that had come of my life.  He was one of my lifelines, and if you know me at all you know I felt I could have done more for him to save his life.  I miss him and can’t think of him without wishing there was something I could have done to keep him.  I tell you this story because if you have family... try not to let them slip away.  Don’t live to regret what you once had.  Live to remember what you had experienced.  These people, your family are your lifelines.  Be sure to love them.  When my children and I are together I’m truly my most happiest.  They are my moments where I know family is where my comfort comes from.   

Don’t live to regret what you’ve lost.  You have this time to appreciate what you have.  Don’t wait for a lesson to come,  know a good moment to value with your family when it comes.  When my first son was born, his mother wouldn’t let me see him.  It took me a full month before I could see my son, and when I did I vowed I’d never be apart from him.  I had to fight for him, to be his father.  I never let him or myself down since I made that promise.  Perhaps having to fight for my son taught me the most valuable lesson in life about family.  One many of you reading this may take for granted.   That is perhaps if every parent had to prove themselves worthy of being a parent they’d appreciate every single moment they get to be a parent.  From changing diapers to the simple act of sitting at the table and eating dinner with your child, I had to fight for that right. And I’ve savored every moment.  When my first son was but an infant I was a single father and my love and bond for Declan was beyond measure.  I recall taking him with me to work and his baby carrier at my desk while I warmed bottles to feed him all day while at work.  I think of those moments fondly and now my son is 10 years of age complaining his brother wrecked his fort in the play room made of couch cushions.  I wouldn’t give up this time for anything.   When my second son was born, I was there the moment he entered this world.  It was one of my greatest life moments.  I thanked my wife, “We made such a beautiful baby.” I told her. When they asked me his name for his birth certificate, it was the second most special moment only to him opening his eyes for the first time and looking up at my own eyes.   I then uttered my first words to Dalton... “Why are you so serious?”  This was one of the single greatest days in my life.

And finally when my ex-wife and I divorced for what seemed at the time to be without merit, my two sons were my lifelines.  I gave them life, now they gave life back to me.  Having them both near to me reminded me of my purpose and everything became good again.  We could have nothing, but we would have each other.

So while I speak of such serious things such as family values and lifelines, just know the little things are what you my find most important to remember.  My youngest son doesn't know what a "sweaty hot dog" is yet, (broiled hot dogs sweat) but one day he'll be asking his kids if they want a "sweaty hot dog" for lunch too.

Find your children today young or grown, hug them and look them in the eyes and tell them how much you really love them.  They are your solace, your legacy and they live beyond you to create their own lifelines.  Give them the value of family to have family values of their own as they grow.  They may never thank you, but will be thankful to you none-the-less.  Give them reason to create new lifelines worthy of your legacy.