The Legend

I am a lucky man. I’ve lived 44 years on this earth and my dad and mom have always been there for me. No matter what I did, they were there. They weren’t always happy to be in the situation but they never backed down in their support.

We all have various types of relationships with our families. Some good, some bad, some indifferent. Sometimes we experience all of that in our relationships. I did my absolute best to drive my parents crazy when I was a kid. I broke every bone in my body, climbed everything, jumped off of everything, and tried to eat everything.

I probably shouldn’t even be here today based on some of the things I did when I was a kid. In my “finest” moment as a kid, I don’t remember all the details. But I do remember being told my dad was seen sitting on the floor of the hospital, head in hands, crying for me. That level of fear is born out of love for someone. My dad loved me.

When I was a teenager, I continued my tormenting ways, just with a different means of attack. I pushed buttons. I didn’t do my school work. I grumbled every time I was asked to help work on his truck or tarp a load. I tore up every lawn mower we owned because I wouldn’t pick up sticks or rocks in my path. I left fish in the livewell to be found days later (unintentionally). I interrupted Sunday afternoon naps with constantly going in and out of the front door. I did so much more, but there aren’t enough hours in a day to go through it all. But over the course of those teen years, I always knew my dad loved me.

When I got married and started my young adult life, I called my dad for everything. “Why is this light flashing on my dash?” “How do I charge this battery for the boat?” “How do I get around Atlanta?” “How long before I have to change my oil?” “My sink is clogged, what am I supposed to do?” “My truck is making a weird noise, what is it?” The boat won’t crank, what am I doing wrong?”

But every call – every single one – he had an answer for me. It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t make fun of me at some point for not knowing that maybe the kill switch was disengaged on the boat and that was why it wouldn’t crank. But he didn’t deny me for not learning more than I should have when I grew up doing all of these things with him when he worked on his truck. He never left me in a bad spot. Because he loved me, and he wanted to see me do well for myself in life.

I didn’t learn how much he loved until I became a father myself. When I became a dad, I realized how debilitating it could be to worry about your kids when they were hurt. The love you have for your kids is all you think about when they are in trouble.

I didn’t learn that my dad was right about most everything until I started to argue with my own kids about how important it is to do their homework, or to put their things up when they are done, or to not lose (or break) things that they use that are mine. They grumble when I ask them to do something. They tell me I don’t understand how hard it is to be a teenager. And they usually don’t remember anything I tell them. But my love for them doesn’t waver. I learned that from my dad.

When I think back on it, I’ve learned a ton from my dad. I learned how to fish. I learned how deep to fish in certain temperatures. I learned what color BAB Fly to use depending on how muddy or clear the water was. I learned what a slab is. I learned what a titty bream is. I learned how to clean those fish. I learned all of this from the greatest fisherman in the world.

I learned how to drive. I learned how to change my own oil. I learned how to change a tire. I learned to pick up those sticks when I was mowing. I learned how to trust people and when to be leery. I learned how important credit was. I learned how important honesty was. I learned how valuable it was to have people be able to trust you. I learned to be a man of my word. I learned that from my dad. We are talking about a man that mowed the grass in a dress to pay off a bet we had about the Braves making the World Series in the early 90’s.

I learned that Rick Hendrick was a “nasty sucka”. I learned that Terry Labonte didn’t have the nerve to compete with Earnhardt. I learned that the great late 80’s baseball player’s real name was Joe’s CAN-suh-ko. I learned how to throw a curve ball, though never as good as his. I learned that you had to keep your head down on a ground ball, even if you were scared. I learned all of this from a man that outplayed his competition in Sunday Church shoes on the baseball field.

I learned an awful lot from my dad. I learned things from him until this very week. I learned how to fight. I learned how to keep pushing, even when you feel bad. I learned how much he loved my kids and how much they loved him. I learned just how important family is. I’m lucky. I can come to the same house I came to 30 years ago and see what a family is supposed to be based on; believing in God, working for your living, taking care of the people under your roof, and teaching those you’re charged with caring for how to survive in this world.

That’s what being a dad is all about. And I had the best. If I learned half of what he taught me, I’ll be just fine in my daily walk as a father and husband. He loved my mom. He loved his kids. He worked hard. He took care of those around him. He was honest, trusting, faithful, and a man of his word. I want to be like my dad.

I’m going to miss him a lot. The older we got, the better our relationship got. Because I understood more and more what he was trying to tell me all those years along the way. Love you Dad! A lot of people do. Despite what the seminar taught, a lot of people gave a damn.

J-Dub