My Dad, My Hero
My father did not claim to be an accomplished writer, scholar, philosopher, or poet. He was simply Dad! We didn’t know him very well, he left us at an early age and Mom took on the responsibility of both parents. Dad was a WW11 hero who risked his life for this country and his family. He was wounded three times and awarded the Purple Heart, Silver Star, Bronze Star and several other medals of honor. He retuned from the war a broken man who had been through a man made hell.
During the early days of my life and my siblings we had some good memories of fun times on the family farm with Dad. He didn’t speak much but somehow found a way to communicate through thoughts and feelings for which words were not available. His deep voice and love for music carried over to us kids as a family tradition.
The relationship that exists between a parent and child is a powerful bond like none other that either shall experience. The effect this relationship has on both the parent and child is deep and lasting, yet the very essence of the relationship is often misunderstood. How can you love someone you don’t know? How can you love someone who was seldom around? As I ponder the questions I find them difficult to answer, but I know it’s possible because I still love my Dad today.
He left this world in January 1979, 51 years ago, and I still recall him telling me, you’re my boy. Unlike many relationships, the one between a father and child is filled with deep mutual love and admiration; a love and admiration which can never be destroyed and evoles into an eternal memory.
Through the course of time, each will realize that the other has faults and weaknesses. There will be periods where your goals, desires and attitudes seem foreign to each other, and it seems impossible to communicate or address your differences, you’ll have feelings that are rarely, if ever expressed.
I remember the stories my grandparents told about my dad. They said it was hard to understand where he was coming from. Yet, I remember the time he cut my hair and bought me a new set of school clothes. I don’t remember him ever working, except on the farm, never once did he watch me play ball in high school, but for some reason I never held it against him and was happy as a peacock when he made a visit. It was a joy to see dad and hear his voice and loud laughter.
My time is now a different day than days when I was young, and all the things that mattered than don’t matter now. When I was just a wee little chap, I’d heard about the generation gap, but then time put us on a different ridge. Dad was gone and I was left to carry on.
A favorite thought of mine throughout the years has been to take the cards you’re dealt and play them. A father should wish their kids success, and be happy as can be, but he should also remember, too, that if they fail, they can still count on him. Dads’ can share good times and bad times with his children with unconditional love. Dad once told me, son, I’m not the person I want you to be, I want you to be you . There are faults I have and deeds I’ve done I’d never wish for you. I thought on that and admired my Dad more, because it’s easy to blame others for things gone wrong, but to admit it’s your fault is by far the wisest way.
I remember my Dad as a happy man who went through difficult times that many would never have endured. But yet he was happy, because he was able to look past the moment, to appreciate and make the most of what he had and always see the brightest side. He was strong enough to begin over and over again and wise enough to learn from what had happened. He was my Dad and I honor him as the great man he was. I never knew him well, but my love for him was unconditional for he was my Dad! Ed Parsons, email@example.com