Thursday, October 06, 2005

Character: Dad

Dad grew up on a farm. He served in the army at Tule, Greenland, which proves that either he loves his country more than life itself or he did something to tick off his commanding officer somewhere. He was a teacher, an occupation that didn't suit him well. He fixed televisions on the side, an occupation that fit him like the skin on an apple.

Dad was quiet, but I always knew when he was around. He exuded an aura of calm, assurance and love. He still does, though he's gotten much more relaxed as his teaching career recedes further into the mists of the past.

Mom flew and bounced around making everyone else's life better, but she couldn't have done it without the rock of stability and reservoir of calm that Dad provided. He was and is the wind beneath her wings, so to speak. He can build or fix anything if he has the tools or materials, he's an acute thinker about all things mechanical, technical or otherwise arcane, and the only area there that I can outclass him is in computers and programming. Of course, the only reason for that is that he never found a good reason to learn. Otherwise he'd probably be running rings around me in a matter of weeks.

I don't think Dad would have been a foster dad if Mom hadn't wanted to do it simply because of his reserve, but he was very, very good at it and has many people out in the wide world who still remember him fondly and love him. He's the man I most want to be like, and in important ways I've begun to dare think I may be succeeding in some small way. It's a feeling I cherish.

Rest assured that in my new adventure, both Mom and Dad will be getting frantic calls requesting advice on how to deal with the various crises we're sure to encounter along the way. And rest assured that we will get the best advice money can't buy when that happens.


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