My Dad - The Big Kid

I grew up in a small town of 2000 people. My childhood home was located on the edge of town, down a little tree covered lane. There were woods to the front, back and sides of our little brown double-wide modular home. The yard was big and abundantly lined with wild orange tiger lilies and blackberry bushes. It was secluded, and it was home.

When I was born in 1982, my dad was just about 22 years old. It was a good year (for me)! My sister had already been born in 1980, and my two brothers followed suit in 1983 and 1988. There were four of us, two girls and two boys.

Having a big side yard and enough players, we often went out for a mini game of football. Dad would turn his back to the defenders and show us the route he wanted us to run and use his finger to direct us. I was always amused by this, but somehow, it made you feel involved, and I liked that. Everyone had a role, even if you were the one to fake them out! It's now something I enjoy doing with my children.

I suppose I can contribute my tolerance for winter to my Dad. I feel like back in the 80's the winters (in Illinois) always seemed to have abundant snowfalls. A good snowfall equals snowball fights, sledding, and building snowmen! And that's what we did. Dad also played a little hockey. We got to go to the frozen ponds out on the back country roads (most likely trespassing-wink) with Dad and his cousins and friends and watch them play a pick-up game of hockey. It was so cool! We usually skated around with our giant moon boots or went sledding on the big hills. Now that I think of it, it may have been a cow pasture, but it didn't matter, we always looked forward to the adventure.

He was athletic person, if you haven't gathered, so we spent many Summers at the ball field. He had played since he was a kid and then well into his adult years, and so did I. My Dad, brother and I were even on a Friday night slow pitch co-ed team together! My Dad pitched, I mainly played right field (left field sometimes when we were short players) and my brother played left/right center. Dad's last year playing, he always had the plan of hitting the ball as far as he can, in hopes of at least making it to first base, then calling in the the pinch runner due to his bad knees. He was in his 40's when he stopped playing, I only made it to my mid-30's and I'm ok with it! I understand the knee issues. It must be hereditary...

I guess I never really thought of my dad as a "nerd", but I think he had a bit of "classic nerd" inside him. He said he had dabbled with Dungeons and Dragons in High School, and he had an extensive comic book collection. He enjoys the DC and Marvel World as well. He is still a Spider-Man guy! I consider myself blessed to have been exposed to such diverse things! I remember getting Archie comics at the grocery store, probably under his influence. I thought they were great! I never did fully take to that though, but I have always kept an open mind.

For a long period of time, he was into the WWF/WWE (still enjoys it on occasion) and we often got tossed around the livingroom getting Tomahawked, Sleeper-Holded, The People's Elbowed and the classic Back-Breaker...that last one was not my favorite. My brothers and he made a Championship belt that they fought for the title of. I'm honestly surprised no one went through the floor! There's still trash talk on who won the most belt titles. He carried the tradition of throwing kids around, after my younger cousins got older enough, he snagged them up too! They loved it just as much as we did.

Music though...the music Dad had on the most was Classic Rock. The Doors, Rush, Pink Floyd, Led Zepplin, Aerosmith, Queen and The Beatles were all very prominant in my life (and so many more). I still get quizzed on occasion who a band is when a familiar song comes on the radio. He was in a band with my Uncle and some of their friends from when I was very young, to when I was in High School. When we were little my two cousins, my sister and I would sit on the steps at my cousin's house and watch "the band" practice. I thought it was the coolest thing and I was very proud to see my Dad play! The band members changed over the years but it was still fun to watch him and his buddies jam out.

On the emotional side of things, my dad has always been fairly gentle. I think it was from him that I learned its ok to cry and its ok for boys to cry too. Not like I ever judged a boy for crying, that is not my way, but that just strengthens my beliefs in being emotionally supportive. One time I got very angry because I found my stickers on the floor that my teacher had given me, and one was missing (my sister being the culprit), well this sent me into an emotional frenzy of rage and anger. Those were MY special stickers! No one seemed to be around to yell at for what they have done, so I slammed the door so hard, enraged, that it went through the other side and got stuck. I instantly knew that I had messed up big time! I hid in the closet because I was petrified of getting in so much trouble and maybe even spanked. When he had finally made his way in the door (it literally went through to the other side) and I was cowering and crying in the closet, only for him to open the closet door and hold me and ask me if I am ok. I think that scared me more than getting yelled at! Again, the gentleness may have scared me more than getting yelled at, when I was around 13 and got busted for experimenting with cigarettes with my girlfriend in my NON-smoking household...I was sat down in the chocolate brown rocking chair, and he got down on his knee and gave me the speech. He said it was understandable to be curious about smoking and to try them, but it would not a wise choice to pick up the habit and hurt your health. I cried and nodded. I never did become a full time smoker, I do social smoke on occasion (but never in front of my parents out of respect). No one is perfect.

My Dad set the example of its ok to be yourself and do things that you love. I have always loved watching this in others as well. Thank you Dad, for a beautiful gift.