My Dad

The earliest memory of my dad is riding around on his motorcycle, going to some guys house that lived up the street, and sitting there while they talked. The reason I remember this guy specifically, is that he was missing fingers so all he had were stubs. I though it was the coolest thing I had ever seen.

My dad is not a go-out-of-the-way social person, but he will meet random people and just talk for hours. It used to drive me crazy when I was young. I can't remember the first time that my dad got mad at me, but him being mad will always be burned in my minds eye. He bites his tung, and whips his belt off so fast its a blur.

My dad is turning into a big softy the older he gets. As a kid I could count on one hand the times that I saw my dad cry. Now that all the kids are getting older I can count on two hands and two feet all the times I've seen him cry.

My dad worked a lot when I was young. He worked long and hard to make sure that we had food to eat and a roof over our heads. Because of this we didn't really get a chance to bond. We didn't go out and play catch, or go hunting, or camping, or watch sports and have our team that we cheered for.

On rare chances that we (the family/kids) did spend time together, my dad taught me how to drive when I was around 10-12 years old on the back country roads of Flowell. He taught me how to drive stick. He saved enough money to buy us a used four-wheeler and we used and abused the heck out of it and every time we broke it he didn't get mad, he just fixed it.

My dad was the "coolest dad ever" when I was a teenager, according to my friends ( I thought so too). He would let us borrow his truck and trailer to go camping. He could build anything in the shop. He reinforced our beater-car with a roll-cage so we'd be "safer." He didn't care if we swore around him (not the real bad stuff ). He tell us funny jokes and beat the crap out of my friends (mostly Brandon and Kyle).

He taught me how to work hard and take responsibility. He gave me permission to get in a fight to stand up for myself or to protect the weak. When I got expelled for for my first fight in 8th grade, the first thing he asked was: "Were you sticking up for someone?" The next Question was: "Did you win?" When I was 10, my dad was the leader of my scout troop. One of the boys was being picked on and my dad gave me the charge of protecting that boy and being his friend. I worked hard all the way through YM to help him when I could and be his friend.

I didn't really gain a "father/son" relationship with my dad till I started driving truck for him. Being around him all the time, getting to know him, to learn about him was the best thing that ever happened to us. I learned from him the type of man I wanted to be. How to work hard, how to be honest, how to take care of my family, how to build stuff with my hands, how to think and solve problems, how to do things for myself. I love my dad, and I'm thankful that he loved me the best he knew how. Because of him, I am the man I am today.

I love you dad!