By MARY JANE HOLT
Contributing Writer

His name is Tim. I just me him this week and he's a single parent raising two girls alone. I liked him.

His mom was a single parent as well. Raised him alone. He never knew his real dad. She did a good job. No doubt about it, she did a real good job.

He was in my home for several hours repairing my Macintosh G3 computer. Again... he wasn't here again. I just met him. The Mac was down again. Tim was here for close to four hours. Actually I lost track of time. But it was plenty long enough for me to know I hope I see this kid again.

I invited him to bring his girls down on Sunday for dinner (lunch, that is). We will confirm it later. He lives on Lake Lanier so he likes to enjoy the lake whenever the weather permits. Sounds like his girls take to the water like fish as well. No problem, I assured him, my home is open year round.

You'd be surprised what you can learn about a person when you are still and alone with that person for four hours with no interruptions. My phone only rang once while he was here. A shock. I have three lines and only one of them rang one time. Unheard of.

Tim was so much like my younger son that I was really shocked at times. I thought no one in the world could be like Derrick. That's a compliment, not a cut, in case he reads this, which he never does. Just covering my bases.

I'm talking about Tim because I want to tell you about his Friday nights. It's movie night. He and the girls, 5 and 8 years old, rent movies and eat junk and stay awake until all hours. The youngest gives it up around 11 p.m.; the oldest can easily make it until 3 a.m.

Tim's mom, who lives nearby, gets onto him for such behavior. The girls need their rest, she says. Saturday is ballet day. They need lots of energy to dance and they have to concentrate as well.

Me? I hope he never stops doing Friday nights. I figure, however, that he may have two, possibly three more good years left with the oldest. By then she will be doing her own thing with her own friends. They start earlier and earlier trying to wean them selves from their parents these days.

If Tim's lucky, and I'm banking on him, they just might save a Friday night a month for him when they are older. I hope they will. In a matter of hours I could see how special he is. Surely his kids know.

But I didn't. I didn't know how special my dad was until after he was gone. He worked three jobs to support his seven kids. My mom never worked outside the home. So time was limited with Daddy. But, as I look back, I realize it was from Daddy that I learned to entertain, to talk, to "live." The man enjoyed life and his enthusiasm for the human experience was so contagious that all those around him were infected by it.

I saw Joyce last weekend. Hadn't seen her in 30 years. Visited for about four hours and had a ball. Talked, laughed, reminisced. She said I brought back memories of how Uncle Alton's and Aunt Mary's family always enjoyed life.

There's so much we take for granted. Tim and I talked about how he plays with his kids, how much he loves them. He told me how the little one, at 3 years old, jumped over board into the lake one summer. Didn't fall, mind you. She jumped. He did too. Instantly. What's 30 knots or standing still to a toddler? She hasn't done it again. His heart couldn't take it.

I was so thrilled to meet this young man and hear him talk about his kids. And the dad he never knew. It was cool to observe no bitterness. Even at his young age, I think he already knows life is too short to pepper it with bitterness and resentment.
I'm looking forward to introducing him to my son. Derrick hasn't been married and does not have kids, but otherwise the similarities were uncanny. Maybe the two of them could put together a seminar on how to enjoy life and the rest of us could take a few hours out of our far too busy days to attend. Four hours is plenty of time to catch the enthusiasm. What you do with it once you catch it, now that's up to you.

I never thanked my dad for the best gift he ever gave me. I wish I had.

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