Tempus Fugit (Time is Fleeting)

I don’t know if my dad had an official motto. If he did, it would probably be, “Tempus fugit.” During the best of times and the worst, dad reminded us to appreciate the good times while we had them. They’re not always there; you can’t get them back. We’ve been a lucky family. Not that we haven’t had our share of hard times and grief; we have. But we’ve always been able to appreciate the good. And we find beauty and joy in even the small things. Tempus fugit.

People my age have childhood memories of insufferable car trips. Today, kids can watch their DVD’s, play their video games, maybe lay down in the third row seating, or talk or text on their cell phones. We didn’t have that. On a long drive we had stuffy; we had uncomfortable; maybe we had nausea; we had horrifically boring. Fight with your siblings; get yelled at by your parents; thump your head against the window. You might run out of things to do pretty quickly. On the seemingly endless one-hour drive to my father’s mother, Rose Langrock, my parents used to tell me to, “Look out at the scenery. The trees along the parkway are so beautiful at this time of year. The next time we go this way they’ll look completely different.” That didn’t work for me then. It doesn’t work on my kids, either.

While in my twenties, I was with a carful of colleagues on the way to a meeting. As the drive got long, I started to stare out the window. For the first time I appreciated the autumn foliage. And I thought of my parents, and the way my father would describe all of the colors and the scenery down to the minute details. And I gave a warm and happy sigh. I hope that one day my kids get that, too.

Freud says that our fathers are the archetype for all male behavior – either for what we compare all men to or for what we strive to be. I’m not keen on everything that Freud said, but the archetype idea is a good one. All of our fathers are teachers. Some teachers are good; some are bad. It’s for us to decide which lessons to absorb. Fortunately, I had a good teacher and I had him for a long time. And I learned to appreciate him. Tempus fugit.

Leonard Langrock was a loyal, constant, and faithful companion for almost sixty years to my mother, June. He was the best father he could be for my brother Bruce and me. He would always make time to talk, to help, to teach. He got a lot of joy from his four grandchildren, Rachel, Alexa, Daniel, and Jessica. And we all had a chance to be with him, appreciate him, learn from him right up to the end. Tempus fugit.

My dad had a lot to teach. He taught me to love words, to love writing, storytelling, and humor. He taught me to enjoy music, food and wine, sports. He taught me to rise to a challenge. My father was a long-suffering Brooklyn Dodger fan and then a Mets fan. Talk about a challenge. He taught me to root for the underdog. He taught me that any task worth doing was worth doing well and that with hard work I can achieve any goal. He was never afraid to apply a little “elbow grease” to get something done. And, as I realized on that autumn drive, he taught me that the journey was more than half of the fun. Cherish the journey. Tempus fugit.

Leonard Langrock
July 25, 1929 - July 12, 2008