Remembering Superman

This is the first year I won’t be able to wish my dad a Happy Father’s Day in person.  I didn’t realize it growing up, but began to as I grew older, that my dad really was Superman!

My dad was always there, for everything I ever did in school.  I can’t remember him ever missing a baseball game, from little league through high school.  Band concerts, vocal concerts, plays in grade school, he was always there.

I attribute much of what I learned playing baseball to my brother, Dean.  But the heart, the never-quit attitude came from my dad.  He would hit or throw me grounders in the backyard...not the lazy, easy to field ones.  Oh no!  Every one of them was off to the side and with zip!  Dad wanted it to be practice as well as fun.

Dad told me once that I was his best gopher.  I would gopher this tool, or gopher that tool, whenever he was working on something around the house or yard.  He was so patient with me when I got him the wrong tool or needed more guidance.  Wish I could have half of his patience.  I learned how to fix things, build things, and maintain things just by watching what he did.  One time, I asked him how he could build anything he wanted to.  (He built a fish house, barrel stove, smoker, room for the wood stove in the house, etc).  He simply said, “You draw a plan and you build it”.  Easy for him to say!  He actually had the skills. 

When we were using wood to heat our house, I was the only kid around to help cut and haul wood with him.  This was the early 1980’s and I was only in grade school.  We were going to go to Colorado one year  for vacation and he told me that he would pay me 50 cents/load so I could earn money for the trip.  He had a notebook in the truck for me to keep track of my number of loads.  He even apologized for not being able to pay me more, but in the end, he gave me a $20 bill, more than the notebook showed I had earned.  I loved going wood cutting with Dad.  Mom would pack us lunch and we would head out.  It was hard work, but he did most of it.  He told me it was important I was there in case something happened to him operating the saw.  The work was easier after hearing that.  Often, when we headed home with a load of wood, we would stop at the Big Stone Legion for some popcorn and a pop.

And then, there was Kenny’s Mobil Station on Main Street.  Dad would stop in sometimes when I was with him just to talk to Kenny.  The station had one of those old pop machines that had the bottles of pop for a dime or a quarter, I can’t remember, I just thought it was cool.  Dad would buy me a bottle of pop to “share”, and then maybe take one drink as a technicality.  I don’t think he really liked the grape pop I usually got, he just had to make sure I shared.

I remember showing up for Army Basic Training already knowing how to spit shine shoes.  I had already done it for a few years.  The pay wasn’t very good when I shined Dad’s boots for Guards, but the praise was!

The lessons I learned from Dad were more from observation than by him telling me.  I seldom saw him and my mom raise their voices at each other or bicker, he always had time for us, and he was proud of a job well done.  After he died, I witnessed firsthand the fact that many of these lessons were truly lived by him every day.  Such an unselfish man and loved by so many.  He took in three of my mother’s siblings and raised them with not one complaint.  This past summer, while my family was moving from Virginia to North Dakota, he opened the house up to us for almost two months.  Not the easiest of circumstances, but he was there to help, just as he always was.

Until the day he died, I still called him and sought his advice on any number of things.  From kids, to marriage, to fixing something around the house, Dad was often the first one I called.  I always knew I would get his honest, straight opinion. 

The greatest life lesson my dad passed down to me is that family is everything.  As a father, I am to be unselfish, a leader, a good example, and a teacher.  Family comes first, then everything else will fall into place.

Superman finally fell to his kryptonite and there will never be another superhero like him.  I love you Dad and miss you terribly!