By Nate Abraham Jr.
COMMENTARY
Nine years ago, all of my kids were in college — in three different states. It was the first Father’s Day that I spent alone. So when they called that day, I asked each of them tell me about their favorite father-child memory.
I had a list of memories in my head of what I thought they would say. The best vacation we had ever had was in 2008 when we traveled the South Pacific for Spring Break. I got a chance to create great memories with them individually and collectively on that trip.
For my son, my favorite memory was the time we were on the island of Moorea and we took a kayak out to the reef. A light rain was falling, but as soon as we turned around to paddle back, the sun came out and a rainbow appeared over the resort.
For my oldest daughter, my favorite memory was driving an underwater Aquabike through the lagoon. For my youngest daughter, my favorite memory was getting up on at dawn on Easter Sunday and exploring the resort with her.
Collectively, my favorite memory was later that day when we ended up standing in next to a dog in a church pulpit, wearing airline t-shirts and paper underwear, singing Kum By Ya My Lord in front of a congregation that didn’t speak English.
These memories stood out because they occurred at a time when we achieved a huge family goal. I was sure that these memories would be just as important to them as they were to me.
I wasn’t even close.
My son said that his favorite father-son memory was when he was little, we would go out and have a boys’ night out.
My daughters’ answers really shocked me. Even though they were 500 miles apart, both of them said that their favorite daddy-daughter memory was the times when they were little and couldn’t sleep at night. They said they loved the fact that I would take them outside, sit them on the back of the car, and recited the names of the stars in the sky.
I was stunned. I barely remembered those memories. But those were the memories that they cherished the most.
As they were growing up, I thought that they would cherish the big, grandiose gestures. The big adventures. But those things weren’t important to them at all. What they cherished was little gestures – just spending time with them.
I have a buddy who has two daughters who live out of state. He said that every year, he sends them a Father’s Day gift list. I thought that was a great idea, so this year, I decided to give my kids my gift list.
Now that I am in my 60s, time becomes precious. Each day you live is one day less that you have to spend with the people that you love. And you will never know which day will be your last.
Since my kids cherished the gift of time, that is what I put on my Father’s Day gift list. For my son, my gift request was to begin having regular boys’ nights out. For my oldest daughter, who lives out of state, my gift request was regularly scheduled phone calls. And for my youngest daughter, it was to have regularly scheduled daddy-daughter dates.
Because as they taught me nine years ago, time is the greatest gift of all.
organization at the senior vice president level,” he said.
In 2019, Murray’s advocacy had a major hand in the passage of The FUTURE Act (Fostering Undergraduate Talent by Unlocking Resources for Education), which “permanently secures $255 million in annual mandatory funding for Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) and other Minority-Serving Institutions (MSIs),” according to the website of Rep. Alma Adams (D-N.C.), also a sponsor of that bi-partisan bill.
Murray’s passion for HBCUs is deeply personal. As he shakes hands on Capitol Hill, he not only represents UNCF, but, like many HBCU graduates, he proudly hails from a family that sent him forth as its first college graduate. He was raised, in part, by his grandfather who was unable to read and would ask him to read street signs for him.
“I thought he was just, you know, proud of his grandson.” He went from that upbringing to becoming the first in his generation to graduate high school and then on to Morehouse, ‘my college of choice.’”
A part of the HBCU community, he not only learned the financial difficulties faced
