Some of you might be familiar with the song, "Cat’s in the Cradle": (A father retracing the growing up of his son)
My child arrived just the other day;
He came to the world in the usual way,
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay,
He learned to walk while I was away.
And he was talkin’ ’fore I knew it and as he grew,
He said, "I’m gonna be like you, Dad.
You know I’m gonna be like you."
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little Boy Blue and the man in the moon.
"When you comin’ home, Dad?"
"I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then;
You know we’ll have a good time then."
My son turned ten just the other day.
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on, let’s play.
Can you teach me to throw?"
I said, "No, not today,
I got a lot to do."
He said, "That’s okay."
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed.
It said, "I’m gonna be like him, yeah,
You know I’m gonna be like him...."
And he came from college just the other day;
So much like a man I just had to say,
"Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
"What I’d really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys.
See you later, can I have them please?"
I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away.
I called him up just the other day,
I said, "I’d like to see you, if you don’t mind."
He said, "I’d love to, Dad, if I can find the time.
You see, my new job’s a hassle, and the kids have the flu,
But it’s sure nice talkin’ to you, Dad,
It’s been nice talkin’ to you."
And as I hung up the phone
It occurred to me,
He’d grown up just like me,
My boy was just like me.
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little Boy Blue and the man in the moon,
"When you coming home, Son?’
"I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, Dad.
We’re gonna have a good time then."
Workaholism is destructive to the family and to personal health. (I’m preaching at myself.) If we find ourselves constantly working unusually long hours, pause and ask ourselves, "Why?" Am I doing this because I want to get a promotion and make a name for myself? Am I doing this because I want to achieve a certain level of wealth? Am I doing this because I want to satisfy a certain pleasure or to fill an emptiness? Was one of my parents a workaholic?