"There is no way you are ever getting a tattoo. I will use a sandpaper or a cheese grater to remove it. The only way you can ever get one is if you are in the military or prison."After I had enlisted into the U.S. Army, it took me all of a week to realize that I could now get a tattoo. The thought of my dad's disappointment in me had always kept me from doing it, more than the idea of the pain of its threatened removal. I may get one after training still, certainly not to spite him, but in honor. Something that has meaning of the things he, and others, have taught me.
I love and respect him, always will. He's taught my siblings and I many things that have served us well. My stubbornness/persistence is one of those qualities. I've often heard that my physical appearance, mannerisms, and even my voice is a replica of his, though I have yet to grow a mustache. He taught me that qualities such as hard work, loyalty, discipline, and honesty will help me prove myself in this world even when others abuse them to their own advantage.
He was the best coach I ever had. Partly because he knew how to push me; partly because he was so damn hard on me. He knew I needed firm direction and it often angered me. Somehow it made me do better. Probably because at times I wanted to send a line drive right back at him and knock him off the pitcher's mound . He picked up on that as well and would push my buttons so that I would focus that anger into becoming the best athlete I could be.
He said evening prayers with us and taught us our Catechisms by listening to night after night of misspoken bits from memory until we got it down pat before Midweek School out at Hanover. He went to church with us and knew we'd need our faith in a faithless world.
He reserved praise for moments when we'd truly earned it so we didn't have an inflated sense of confidence like so many other people of our generation. We know our limits and work to improve them, not ignore them and ask for what we do not deserve.
I'm thankful for the great example my dad was for me. I'm thankful he cared enough to punish me when I had done wrong, even if it hurt at the time. I'm thankful he works so hard to care for my family. I pray that if I manage to find a woman that'll marry me, that'll be able to be the kind of husband/father as he has been and still is.
I called him on Sunday to say Happy Father's day and we talked for a bit, but I'm not very good at vocalizing things like this. Neither of us are amazing orators, nor do we say a lot about these emotional and sentimental things, but I figured writing it out was my best way of saying thank you. I know mom (she deserves credit as well, and I would've written one for her if I'd thought of it at the time, I'll certainly make it up to her) prints these out and gives them to dad to read. He knows how much he means to us even without these words in an eloquent speech, but now the rest of the world can see it as well. I'm proud to have his name, James, as my middle name.
