Tuesday, June 10, 2008

The love of a Father

I recently read a comment on my first blog that literally brought tears to my eyes. Before any thoughts come into your heads, there a very, very few things in life that have made me cry and most of them have been because of my father. I know this sounds bad, but wait it gets better. My father was never the type that beat me, verbally abused me, or made me feel ashamed of myself. He is the reason I feel that I have such a tight connection with the family I have created today. Of the few times I have cried in my life they have been because I felt like I personally let him down. No he never gave me a reason to feel this way, but I had such a deep passion to make him happy and feel like he had created a wonderful person that I would rather die than feel like he was disappointed. Later in my life I have come to realize that all my father ever wanted was for me to be happy and try my best. This is why whenever I looked up in the stands at a wrestling match, football game, and yes even cross country meet, (it must be noted that I always finished at the back of the pack in these, asthma has a way of doing that to you) he was always there. He didn't care whether I won or lost, he was just happy to see me trying my best and doing something I love. I remember the feeling in my stomach the day I told him I no longer wished to play football. I had coaches promising me the world, scholarships, and state championship rings, but my heart was no longer in the game sadly due to an overbearing coach. I cried when I told him of my decision to quit, because I felt like I was in some way disappointing him. I'll never forget the way my father reacted when I told him. I guess in my mind I was expecting him to try and talk me out of it, or have him tell me to just try it a little longer, but instead he reached over to me, gave me the type of hug only a father can give and said, if that is what I wanted, then he understands and he is proud of me for making this decision. (man that went much better than the fifty ways I imagined it going in my head)

There were times growing up living with my mother that I would do something that would warrant a call to my father. I remember fighting these calls to the point of unplugging the phone. It wasn't the spanking's I feared nearly as much as my father looking in my eyes and telling me he was disappointed in my decision. At this point I wanted my father to be the type that beat me. ( it should also be noted that growing up he did have one of those father's and he vowed at that time never to be that type of man) I would rather have been beaten at these times than to have him look at me that way. I only hope one day that I to can raise my son and daughter to have these same feelings. I attribute a lot of the right decisions I have made in my life to the fear of getting "The Look."

All my life I remember my dad being the man that I wanted to grow up to be. Every year in school they always ask you who your hero was, and my response was always my father. I admired a man that risked his life for twenty-five plus years to protect and serve at a fraction of the pay that he deserved. Watching him leave on Christmas morning because someone murdered someone the night before, or watching him leave in the middle of the night dressed in all black in order to conduct a stake out. There is not another profession I could think of that would have made me more proud of my father. I guess that is why I chose to follow in his footsteps. Although I no longer choose to be in the law enforcement career field, I still have nightmares that wake me up covered in sweat scared to go back to sleep. Don't get me wrong I loved being a cop, but at this time in my life it was not in my best interest to continue down that road. More to come on the cop stuff in future blogs.

I could go on forever, literally forever telling you of all of the wonderful things this man has done for me, but I will spare all of you the novel. Maybe I'll write a book someday, and then you can read that. (don't hold your breath) For now I will just say thank you. Thank you for always being there for me, thank you for guiding me and being the perfect example of what a father should be, and thank you for the love and support you have shown me for the past twenty-six years.



FOTOA said...

Welllll, this is one of those moments I spoke of earlier....you know, God I love this kid!

granolachic said...

umm...speaking of love of a father...your adorable daughter just woke up to go pee...as she was drifting back to sleep...she said...daddy is for protecting jaden and mewrci...

how sweet is that...i'd say you're doing a pretty good job!!