I lost my Dad 20 years ago. He's my hero. He had one of those unfortunate childhoods, yet through hard work and determination, he made something out of himself.
When he died, people had to stand outside the church it was so full. Seems that everyone knew my Dad.
What I learned when he died was just how much good he'd done for others. He was a banker in a small county seat town in rural America. Folks my Mom and me didn't even know told countless stories about how he went to bat for them, helped them when nobody else would, would cut strings for them, and so on. Some people came to visit us to tell us about him that he'd helped years and years before. They never forgot him.
In all of his softness, he was a hard man. Difficult to get close to. An athlete. Tough. He was in the state record books for decades for one certain track event. Flew in a B-17 over Germany in WWII. He'd seen a lot. He raised himself since age 15.
When we'd say good-bye, we didn't hug. We shook hands instead. That was just his way. Yet, from stories people had been telling me for years, I knew that behind my back he bragged all over the county about me to anyone that would listen.
He was my Best Man at our wedding.
One huge regret about him that I have is that he never got to meet his grandsons before he died. He loved kids. That just tears me apart to think about it.
I shared some of the stories on the Porch the other day about the various awards our son received this year upon graduation. When he was on stage the other night getting his awards, I felt that my Dad was there, looking on. I could almost hear him leaning over to me whispering in my ear, "Good job, Son, now one more to go." He always had a way of challenging me to do better. I guess that's where I get that drive and positive attitude ya'll kid me about on here sometimes.
Anyway, my Friends, I just wanted to share a little bit with you about my Dad on this Father's Day.
He's still my hero.
RR |
