It’s funny the way things turn out sometimes. Interesting to see the way things are going. And amazing to find out just how adaptable we are.
I grew up in a little house in the woods. A small neighborhood surrounded by miles upon miles of forest. We had little money, few toys, but we had each other. My father worked sometimes three jobs so that we could survive. And he did whatever it took to ensure that our mother was there each day when we got off the school bus, had enough to eat, had a safe place to live.
He worked so hard, often coming home bleeding from work. First with wooden splinters as he worked construction and at the lumber yard, and later with splinters of metal when he worked in the machine shop. He never complained about his work, he only came home and worked even more in his basement workshop making trinkets and decorations to sell so that we could have a Christmas with gifts each year. His whole purpose was and still is his family, his children.
Because of his willingness to do whatever it took we always had enough to eat, lived in the same house our whole childhood, and were always safe.
And it was with that example that I became a father.
Just as my father was willing to do whatever it took for his family it seemed natural that I would do the same.
I never wanted to be a single father. I had my vision of the future which was to follow a path similar to that my parents took, easier work than my father but otherwise quite similar. When the boys’ mother started to get sick I did everything I could do, even as that vision of the future collapsed around me. When she finally left there was no doubt in my mind, especially with the lifelong example my father had laid out for me, that I would do whatever it took to care for my boys and that I would become whatever I needed to become.
I’m not sure how much I really changed when we found ourselves alone, although I’m sure I did. I simply do what needs done, having faith that my boys will grow into good men.
I am a firm believer the more I see myself turning into my father in those little ways that our children will become, for the most part, who we are today. That all of those old wisdoms about apples and trees endure because of the underlying truth to it all.
My entire philosophy on fatherhood comes down to that realization, and with that realization each day I look at my boys, imagine them as men, and then try to be the man I want them to grow into.
Scarcely a week goes by without me receiving at least one usually three or four complements for being a fantastic father. And although I appreciate each complement I receive I honestly don’t think I’m anything special. In the end I’m simply my father’s son, and for that I am truly appreciative of apples and trees.
