Monday, November 5, 2012

2012, The year of Fathers (plural) Passing

Seems that 2012 has been a year that Cindy and myself will remember the remainder of our lives.  Cindy's dad, Ralph, lost his battle with cancer and went on to his heavenly home in March.  On October 27, my dad lost his battle with cancer and passed to his heavenly home.  This blog is dedicated to both their memories.  This writing is in no way intended to take away from either father's life contributions, both men led full lives and both men lived their own way.  The mainstay of this blog is simply my reflections of how mainly my own dad's life influenced me to become what I am today.  Please don't regard any of my rantings as a lack of love for my dad, I did love him, but simply his influence based on my experiences living with him as my dad.
Dad was the youngest of twelve kids.  He didn't talk much about his child hood but from the few accounts he did vocalize, it was not a childhood he wanted to dwell in.  Dad wasn't even given the courtesy of a name.  He was given the simple initials of J. W. as a name.  It wasn't until he enlisted in the military that he adopted the name of James because the military would not accept initials only.  To this day I don't think that he ever had a name of record, just J.W.
Growing up with dad was not an easy task.  Dad had basically two things that gave his life meaning, so it seamed, to me.  Family was not one of those two things.  His life was driven in the beginning by his service in the military and followed by his life in a truck.
Now I want to pause just a moment to interject something.  In today's culture of blaming others or situations or what have you for personal faults and failures I want it clearly understood that I do not blame any of my faults or failures on my up-bringing, I do not blame either of my parents for decisions that I, an individual with the capacity to think on my own, made.  The Lord gave me the ability to think and speak for myself.  How well those thoughts or actions materialized were based on my decisions, based on influences contributed by those around me.  Too often I am sickened by generations blaming parental generations because their life is screwed up.  I'm sorry, I just don't buy into this line of thought.  I find it impossible to blame someone for a conscious decision made by a person able to think and act on their own.  If you grew up in an abusive home, I feel for you , but that does not give you the right to be an abusive parent yourself.  If you grew up in a home with successful parents, that does not guaranty you success, your own thoughts, your own actions, your own mind set is all that can determine the life you lead.
Dad traveled a lot.  That was his job, he was an independent truck driver, he enjoyed life on the road.  I have to think that he felt in control when he drove, perhaps a feeling that did not exist in a home situation.  To say that it was easy growing up in his household would be a blatant lie on my part but at the same time the way I was raised actually made me grow up and become my own man.  Dad did not spend a lot of time with me as a kid.  He spent most of his life in the cab of a truck, traveling, being in control, being self dependent, and maybe avoiding the task of raising a family because just like all of us, no one likes to do something that they don't have experience with.  Dad did not have a family or a father to teach him how to be a dad.  The military was his first real family.  The military had rules, the military had people in charge, the military formed his mind to the way that he thought a "family" should act and perform.  I think that after the family came, he realized that the military way was not the family way but that was all he knew.  Maybe that is one of the reasons he was always gone.
I look back many times on the activities that my siblings and I participated in.  I can honestly say that my dad was never really a part of those activities.  My mom is the one that took care of our school activities, got involved with us in scouts and anything else we wanted to do.
I could have very easily done nothing with my life and used the excuse that I had an abusive parent.  I chose not to do that.  I chose instead to open my eyes, to watch and learn from my parents.  I strived to make sure that when my time came as a parent that my kids would not endure the same educational upbringing that I had.
I did not do a perfect job, but I did my best.  I see pictures of families that have been on vacations together, that go on outings together, that enjoy being together.  I think that is fantastic!  Families should be together and enjoy that togetherness.  I really cannot recall a family vacation.  That is not to say we never went on one, it is just that no matter what, they seemed to always turn sour, basically I think that I just blocked the few vacations we did take out of my mind because it seemed that anytime we were together as a family, I could not live up to the standards that my dad expected of me.  It would have been real easy for me to just accept that I would never amount to much and blame my dad for my failures but I tend to look at things differently.
The high expectations that my dad had for me caused me to work very hard.  I wanted so much to hear him tell me that I had done good, that I excelled at something, anything, I wanted his praise!  The need for that praise was the push behind me being a good student, no a great student because I knew that just being good was not enough to get that recognition from my dad, I had to be the best!  If I was the best he would have to recognize me, right?  My dad's expectations created my work ethics, my education ethics, and the way I would lead my life.  The way I would raise my family.  The things that I would change when I became the dad!
I would love to sit here and tell you that because of his expectations and my inability to reach them that I became the model father.  That would be a lie larger than any he ever told.  I did become a father, on January 7, 1980, Cindy and I had our first son.  I let work stand between being a real dad and being a father to my new son.  I had become so mindset on being the best at what I did, still trying to get that recognition, that I began to become my dad.  I don't think I ever became abusive but I did not give my most valuable asset to my family, I held on to my time with the intent of being the best at my work, not being the best at being a father.  I did eventually begin to give some time to my family.  Cindy and I have two very fine sons.  I began to get involved with them and some activities.  I made it a point to go to their ball games, to go to their parent teacher conferences, to take an active part in their life.  Did I do it right?  Did I stop chasing the much needed perfection that I felt my dad wanted?  No, I just worked harder and made the schedule fit.  I can remember many times being home for a school function for my sons then to maintain my quest for what I thought was my life destination, I would drive all night to be at a business function.  I was still making my work my priority.
I had an awakening around 1990 or so.  I had a time in my life where I had to decide to support my family, in this case to stand up and defend my son, or to support my work and make the family second.  The decision I was about to make was going to cost me, it was either going to cost me the respect my son had for me or it was going to cost me my job, my JOB, the thing I had become a perfectionist at, the one thing I could do better than anyone else!
That is the only time in my life that I have been fired from a job.  I decided that the chain would be broken and I would work harder on my family.  The family may not have realized that I had decided in their favor at the time because to keep the bills paid I went over the road as a "truck driver".  I did not let this new career consume me, if anything it made me long to be home more with my wife and two sons.  I drove over the road until 1996, when I took a job that permitted me to be home.  Did I do it right from then on?  No, I just did my best and I realized that I no longer needed to hear my dad tell me that I did a good job, I just wanted to do a good job for my family.  the only people that I needed to prove anything to was my two sons and my wife, I realized what had become and should have been important all along.
Did my dad teach me?  Yes, my dad taught me that hard work is important, I learned when to make life important.  He taught me that being the best was the utmost goal to strive for, I learned to strive for being the best dad I could be.
I loved my dad, I wanted to make him proud, I wanted to make him happy.  I wanted him to be able to hold his head up and tell the world that I was his son!  I feel that I have done that.  I have two very fine young men that have both done very well with their lives.  I feel that they have learned far sooner than I did what is important, they know that the love and adoration seen in their spouses eyes and in the laughter of their kids that the family is the goal, work and recognition may happen along the way but when their spouse proudly says to the room "that is my husband" or the kids proudly tell the world "that is my dad" to me that is the highest praise any man could want.
I am going to end this with an analogy that may make sense to some and not to others.  Years ago Johnny Cash had a hit song titled " A Boy Named Sue".  In short a man had named his son Sue in an effort to make the boy grow up to be a man in the father's absence while the son thought it only an insult.  The boy became a fine man and one day met his father.  Find the song, understand that my dad taught me, maybe not the best way but he taught me to become my own man.