My Dad isn't perfect...

I don't have a lot of memories of my dad playing catch with me or running around outside with me or playing games. He was a coach in junior high for a time but he never coached my little league teams. He never took me fishing because he just doesn't fish. My Dad worked a lot. He was a school teacher. But that wasn't his only job. During baseball season my Dad sold tickets at Ranger Stadium. 1st base side...gate 7 or 8 I think. This meant he wasn't home a lot. But sometimes I got to tag along and run around the ballpark before it opened to the fans and get autographs. I remember when George W owned the Rangers and Dad pointed him out to me. At the time he was the Vice President's son...but all I knew or cared was that he was my Dad's boss so he had to be important. His autograph sits on my mantle still today. My Dad worked 2 jobs sometimes 3 or 4 for us. His family was the most important thing in his life. He did whatever he had to do to make sure we had everything we needed no matter how many hours he had to work. A good part of summers were spent at camps or at my grandparent's house. I wasn't home much. Dad was usually working. Sprinkler company one summer, working for an electrician another. He never stopped. But he still found time to be the house enforcer, the fix-it man, the "oh crap I forgot I have a major project due in the morning and I need to build a working volcano!" helper. He even burned his hand putting out a fire in our neighbor's house because that is the kind of man that he is. Always putting others before himself.

My most special childhood memory was the summer of 1988. My rite of passage trip. Dad took me to Big Bend National Park. Just me. We left the world behind and drove. And yes, I got to drive. As a 12 year old! It was awesome. Getting to spend that week alone with my Dad meant more to me than he will ever know. My son turns 13 next summer and I get to carry on that tradition with him. Hopefully it will mean as much to him as it did to me.

My Dad will be 67 in a few months and he is still working full time. Why? Because he never stops giving. All of his boys have crashed and burned at some point and needed him. Some of us more than others. Every time that happens he picks us up, brushes us off, helps point us in the right direction and walks with us until we are again strong enough to walk on our own.

Was or is my Dad perfect? No. Does my Dad strive everyday to be a better man than he was yesterday? Yes. Do I wish I could now take care of my Dad like he has taken care of me? Yes. I would love nothing more than to provide for him and my mom so they could retire and relax. They deserve it. I live 4 hours away but visit every chance I get because I know we are all getting older and life is getting shorter. As I have gotten older I have become more and more like my Dad, and that is perfectly ok by me. I look like him, talk like him, and think like him. If you asked him if he wished he did some things different he could probably give you a list. I would contend that he shouldn't change a thing. He made me the man and the father I am today. My Dad truly is my hero. Not because he changed the world or accomplished some incredible feat that will be talked about for centuries, but because he is my Dad. I love you Dad. Thank you for everything from the bottom of my heart.