[sighs] You know, people ask me, “Harold, what’s the loudest sound in the world?” And I tell them, “The loudest sound in the world is silence. It’s the sound of this phone right here when it hasn’t rung in 3 months.” Mhm. You know what I’m talking about. See, I got three babies, grown now. I changed their diapers.
I paid for that fancy college. I sat in the stands, freezing my hands off, cheering for them. I gave them my back. I gave them my knees. Lord knows I gave them every dime I had. And now, I’m 82 years old, and I’m lucky. I mean, I am lucky if I get a text message on Christmas Day.
“Merry Christmas, Dad.” That’s it. That’s uh That’s what I got to show for a lifetime of love. Now, you sitting there watching this, and I know you feel it, too. You sitting in a quiet house, just wondering, “What did I do wrong?” You pick up the phone. You dial the number. You get the voicemail, and you say, “Hey, baby.
Hey, son. Just checking in on you. Call Daddy back.” And you wait. And you wait. And nothing. Well, let me tell you something today. And this might hurt a little bit. But it’s the truth. Stop calling them. Put the phone down. Don’t you leave another voicemail. Don’t you send another text begging for a crumb.
They left you. Mhm. They did. And if you keep chasing them, you lose and the only thing you got left, man, your dignity. Now, uh let me tell you what you going to do instead. The hard truth. See, first thing is we got to talk about why you calling. You scared. I know it. You scared that if you stop, they just going to disappear.
Poof. Gone forever. You think, “If I don’t remind them I’m here, they going to forget old Harold exist.” Well, listen to me close. If you got to remind your child that you exist, they already forgot you. Yeah. That’s hard to swallow. But begging for love, that ain’t love.
That’s pity. And I don’t know about you, but I am a grown man. I worked 40 years in that plant. I walked through storms. I ain’t accepting pity from the people I spoon-fed. No, sir. When you call them five times a week sounding sad, sounding lonely. You teaching them that you a burden. You teaching them you ain’t got no life.
You just waiting by the window like an old dog. And let me tell you, folks run from that. Even your own blood. It feels like uh like pressure. So, they pull back. And you chase harder. And they run faster. You got to stop the bleeding. Today. Right now. The chasing ends. Now, step one. You got to kill that guilt. Mhm.
I know what you do at night. You lay there staring at the ceiling. Replaying the tapes. Maybe I was too hard on him. Maybe I worked too much. Maybe I didn’t hug enough. [sighs] Look here. Ain’t no parent perfect. I wasn’t perfect. Lord, I made mistakes. Plenty of them. But I was there. I didn’t run off. I put food on that table.
I kept the lights on. I loved them the best way I knew how. If your children if they punishing you today for something you did 30 years ago, that’s on them. That ain’t on you. You can’t apologize for the past can’t pay for it with your dignity today. If they want to hold a grudge, let them hold it.
That’s a heavy bag to carry. You don’t got to carry it for them. Forgive yourself, man. You did your job. The contract is done. You deserve some peace. Mhm. Step two, build a garden. So, you asking, “How, if I don’t call them, what I’m supposed to do? Just sit here and rot?” No, no, no. You build a garden. My granddaddy used to say, “Harold, if you chase a butterfly, that thing going to fly away.
But, if you build a beautiful garden, the butterfly come to you. And even if it don’t come, shoot, you still got a beautiful garden.” See, for 5 years, I sat in this chair rotting, waiting for this phone to ring. 6 months ago, I said, “Enough.” I joined a woodshop class, started making things with my hands again.
I started playing chess at the park with these other old fools. We argue, we laugh. I started cooking again. Got my gumbo recipe back out. And you know what happened? I became uh interesting again. I became happy. I stopped needing them to fill this hole in my chest. I filled it myself. You got to get busy.
Go travel. Go learn something. Make your life so full that you don’t even notice this phone ain’t ringing. Because here is the secret. Children are curious creatures. When the phone stops ringing, when the guilt trip stop, they start wondering why daddy ain’t calling. Is he okay? What’s he doing? And eventually, mhm, eventually they call.
And when they do, they don’t find a sad old man sitting in the dark. They find a man who is living. And that that makes them want to stay. The conclusion. Nah, I got to keep it real with you. I ain’t going to lie. Sometimes you build a garden and the butterflies still don’t come. Sometimes they just gone.
Sometimes folks are just selfish. Even your own kin. And if that’s the case, if you find your peace and they still stay away, then let them go. Let them go with love, but let them go. You can’t force nobody to love you. But you can refuse. Refuse to let their absence destroy you. You ain’t defined by who comes to visit you on Sunday.
You defined by the man you see in that mirror. My phone ain’t rung in 3 months. But I’m going to the wood shop today. Making a table. And I’m going to eat a good steak tonight. I’m going to live. If they want to join me, the door is unlocked. But I ain’t standing in the doorway waiting no more.
And you shouldn’t be neither. Get up, man. Go live.
