Tag Archives: daughter

Mourning On A Gloomy Morning

by Woody

My favorite Wooden-ism, as I call John Wooden’s maxims, is “Make each day your masterpiece.”

This past Tuesday never had a chance to be a masterpiece. It was a canvas painted with ugly graffiti; a day where the Southern California sunshine seemed gloomy; a masterpiece ruined because Nan Wooden, the late legendary coach’s daughter, passed away in the morning at age 87 of natural causes.

The news squeezed my heart so hard it felt bruised and brought me to tears. Losing a friend is never easy, even one you have never met. Indeed, all the times I visited Coach in his home during our two-decade friendship, Nan never happened to be present.

That is not entirely accurate. Her presence was always felt through photos on display and our conversations.

Coach John Wooden and daughter Nan at at UCLA basketball game.

When my daughter Dallas was born – coincidentally, and sentimentally for Coach, her due date was his and Nell’s wedding anniversary – he shared how over-the-moon he had been when Nan was born and that I was likewise sure to be wrapped around my own little girl’s finger.

Two years later when my son arrived, Coach pointed out that we had both been blessed with “one of each” and in the same order. After that, I always paired Nan with Dallas, his Jim with my Greg, and I think Coach did likewise.

When Coach passed away a decade ago, I sent Nan a condolence card care of her father’s address. In the months, and even years, to follow I wish I had made a greater effort to reach out through others to set up a visit.

Among many things I would have loved to ask her was something I should have asked her “Daddy” as she called him even in her old age: Did he ever put notes with Wooden-ism – Daddy-isms to her! – in her school lunches?

I would have shared with Nan how I had made a daily habit of writing notes such as “Have a great day!” or “Good luck on your spelling test!” or “I miss you lots!” on paper napkins and putting them inside Dallas’s Little Mermaid lunchbox and Greg’s Power Rangers lunchbox.

Then, after I took them to meet her Daddy one unforgettable afternoon when they were 10 and nearly 8, I started adding his pearls of wisdom such as “Be quick, but don’t hurry” (a great reminder before a spelling test) and “Happiness begins where selfishness ends” and “Little things make big things happen” and dozens more.

Coach’s Seven-Point Creed, one line at a time, became a frequent go-to napkin jotting: “Be true to yourself. Make each day your masterpiece. Help others. Drink deeply from good books. Make friendship a fine art. Build shelter against a rainy day. Pray for guidance and give thanks for your blessings every day.”

We would discuss Wooden-isms at the dinner table and also talked about Coach’s “Pyramid of Success” and his personal definition of success: “Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.”

Today, Dallas is already teaching Wooden-isms to her nearly 3-year-old daughter Maya and Greg frequently texts Wooden’s gems to me! I think Nan would have enjoyed hearing all this.

About losing Nell, Coach wrote to me once: “I no longer have any fear of death as that is my only chance, if He will forgive me of my sins, to be with her again.”

Maybe last Tuesday was a masterpiece day after all, in Heaven, with Coach, Nell and Nan smiling at their reunion.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Two New Kites, One Old Memory

by Woody

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Flying Kites Make

The Mind Soar

On a recent afternoon with spring in the breeze, something else wonderful was in the air: a kite.

Shortly, a second kite rose.

Like bookends separated by a long row of volumes, these two park scenes played out with an hour sandwiched between. Each vignette made me smile. Together, they made my heart soar as if aided by the wind and a knotted rag tail.

Before proceeding, a third kite bears mention – this one flown a quarter-century ago by my daughter, then four. It was her first kite and she had impatiently waited many days for the wind to be strong enough for a maiden flight.

If memory serves, and I am certain it does for this remains a cherished image, My Little Girl skipped to the park while happily singing the “Mary Poppins” lyrics, “Let’s go fly a kite and send it soaring. Up through the atmosphere. Up where the air is clear…”

After getting her 99-cent rainbow kite airborne, I handed the string to My Little Girl and her reaction, along with a beaming smile, was this: “Daddy, it feels like catching a big fish in the sky.”

This was a wonderful observation considering My Little Girl had never felt the tug of a fish.

Which brings me to the first kite I sighted this spring. Another little girl, perhaps six instead of four, was flying a kite decorated with a unicorn instead of a rainbow. Watching from afar, I readily imagined she also was likely thinking of fishing in the sky …

… because instead of holding a spool of cotton string, this little girl controlled her kite with a fishing rod and nylon line in a reel. What an ingenious father she had, I thought.

Too, I thought back to climbing a tree to retrieve My Little Girl’s rainbow kite after the string snapped and it fluttered into the clutches of branches. We promptly went to a kite store and got nylon “rope” as she called the heavier string.

Time passes, but not all things change. The little girl with the unicorn kite tethered by fishing line seemed as excited as if Christmas morning had arrived on a June afternoon. When the breeze held its breath too long, she handed the rod and reel to her father and skipped off to retrieve her grounded kite; held it high overhead; and then giggled when her father got it back up where the air is clear.

I could have watched this all afternoon, but too soon the happy pair departed hand-in-hand.

Not five minutes later, a second kite flyer arrived and the contrast could hardly have been more striking. Now I watched a gentleman, in his sixties I guessed, and alone; sailing a stunt kite without a fishing reel but with multiple strings that allowed him to make it zig-zag and spin and even dive to within inches of the ground before soaring again.

Again, the fishing metaphor was impossible to ignore for the gentleman was wearing a flannel shirt, stained pants and a brim hat that begged to be decorated with tied flies. Sitting in a folding beach chair, he seemed to belong lakeside or on a pier.

As the gentleman flew his kite, seated patiently as if waiting for a big fish to strike his line, my mind returned to the little girl I had just seen; then to My Little Girl; and finally I had one more lovely thought.

I imagined the gentleman’s mind was also wandering, drifting backward on the warm breeze to memories of flying a kite with his own little girl.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …