To my father(s)
““While we can’t choose our parents, we do have the ability to choose whose children we will be.””
Don't forget!
Father's day is Sunday, June 18 this year and I wanted to acknowledge my father(s) today in anticipation. I am not talking about my actual father (though I might mention him before this post is through), but the many men who have made the effort to care and guide me throughout the years in place of my father (more like my mentors). I will always be grateful for these men that pull me aside and either kick my ass or who offer a kind word when I am feeling I am at my worst.
The old man in the kitchen…
I think he's part of me.
I have to address one of these fathers by name. He is no longer with us and it does bring me to tears a little to mention him… His name is Arthur Curtain and all the kids in the neighborhood just called him "Art". He was receptive, caring, and a loving man who understood a lot of things about a lot of things. He was an ex Hell's Angel who put away his jacket long ago and took out a new lease on life. He was a bee keeper at one point, and also worked the oil fields in Texas with his father. We would talk for hours some days and we watched documentaries a lot - never watched shows about the war though. He was tough, but he couldn't stand to watch anything about the war. I understood that more as I got older. My point is that he was a wonderful man, full of life, and love! We talked about everything and anything imaginable! He taught me to play chess, we talked about art, science, problems, girls, etc. Everyone should have at least one “Art” in their life at some point. I heard this song a while back and it instantly reminded me of Art when I heard it... It's All At Once by Pete Yorn.
The song lyric that chokes me up every time:
When he comes around
Do not tell him nothing
Do not make a sound
Cause if he knows we're there
He might tear his heart out
And beat us to death with it
I was too young to understand.
Go ahead.. click the song above and let it play… I will wait. Is it over? Good. Now, there are lot of things I wish I could have said to Art before he passed away and before I moved away, but mainly I would just like to hug him one more time and tell him I loved him. I am so thankful to have known his love and spent so much time with him.
Thanks to “all my fathers” for keeping my feet close to the ground all these years. I needed and still need every one of you every day.
The college father
CORRECTING MISTAKES
We all make mistakes and in college we sometimes don't see them until the next year starts. It's rare that I ever saw them at all. But my “College Father” had the patience of a saint! I was young, dumb, and a mouth that flowed like the Mississippi River! He was my college teacher and I know that each day I sure made more work for him than he would like. It was his first year teaching and I can only imagine that he thought it would be this tough all the time! Each time I put my foot in my mouth, disrupted the class, or caused more trouble he only become more and more patient. Pulling me aside later and explaining why I couldn't say or do certain things, asking me to consider other solutions to school work etc. When I wanted to zig he forced me to zag. He consistently challenged me and I learned more than expected for sure.
It got better from there
I came to respect and truly admire this man. He had a family of his own, but he treated me with the care of a distant nephew... or maybe a second cousin? Maybe not as close as one might like, but hey... I was still considered family I am sure of it! He showed me a lot about how words have impact and that I should try and choose my words carefully with everyone. I don't always practice this today, but I sure can look back and recall the lessons he tried to teach.
The work father
I haven't had a lot of fathers at work throughout the years. It seems that people are too busy trying to make a living and don't have time to talk and get all mushy and fatherly! Go figure! But! Recently I have found a great mentor in my current boss (no, he has no idea this blog exists - I am not kissing ass!) and though we have very different personalities, we share the same emotional language for our work. He is a few years older than I am and has experienced more of our industry and when I need guidance he always has a tested solution ready. He has become a trusted and understanding person that I confide in and look forward to the years to come. I would never have expected this looking back to when I first started with them and I am truly grateful for his presence, time, and knowledge.
Father John
THE GOOD STUFF
I am 46 years old and I can't tell you how difficult it has been growing up my entire life and not have someone I could readily call up and ask; "What would the correct ignition timing be on a 1955 Bel Air Chevrolet, with a 327 cubic-inch engine and a four-barrel carburetor?” And apparently I still don't know that person, but I can say that John certainly does have the right response to the complicated questions. It may not always be the “right answer”, but it always feels like the “right response” when I call John. I met John a few years ago and he has helped me tremendously to calibrate my thinking and to ask the right questions... you read that right… John rarely offers me answers, but always seems to pose the right topic to start getting me to ask the right questions. At times it can be very deep and critical thinking stuff that I would never have thought to consider and other times it can be just the right amount of joke to poke fun at some obvious mistake I made recently, but it's always caring and loving no matter the topic.
I can't thank him enough
John has guided me down some rough pathways (mainly in my own head) and he has pointed out the direction to some real personal freedoms that I never thought I would be able to embrace. I am so thankful and grateful for his grace and attention. I only hope that I can do the same for someone else some day.
Oh! My REAL father?
He died of alcoholic hepatitis when I was in my early teens. I never knew him. He left my mother before I was born or she left him. I don't know who left whom, but it certainly happened. I vaguely recall meeting my father once when I was 3 or 4 years old (we will always have The Pike). I have few stories of who other people thought he was, but to me he was just mostly made up… like stories of the abominable snowman or big foot, but smaller... much, much smaller.
Don't forget that Father's day is Sunday, June 18 !!!!
