Father's Day

Not all heroes wear capes.

First time I saw that quote, it was on a card I found in a store just before Father's Day 2003, the first Father's Day after my dad died.

There was a photo on the card. A young boy was walking down the road holding hands with his daddy.

I've known plenty of heroes in my life. In yesterday's post, I talked about John as superman. My dad was another superman.

This was Dad before I knew him. I'm guessing he was about 18 in this photo. So much of his life ahead of him. He was a hero for being in the Army Air Corps, Air Force, Air Reserves, and Air National Guard.

But he was also a hero in other ways. Never an unkind word for anyone. He always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. He loved his family: the family he grew up with on a farm north of the Lansing area, which included 6 siblings that grew to adulthood, and their children; his wife; his three children. I am proud to say that I was one of those children. We learned so much from him in the little things he'd do, whether it was putting the blankets over us at night, comforting us during thunderstorms, teaching all of us various sports, taking us on trips...or walks down to the fountain in town, with ice cream in hand.

And even the way he fought his illness--Parkinson's--with such dignity. Much like the battle my husband had.

I was so glad that--despite the disease taking its toll on him--Dad walked me down the aisle on September 3, 1994. I still remember how both of us cried--especially him--as we walked toward John. Both loving that this day had arrived, and yet being scared, too. Dad's first glance at me before we went down the aisle caused him to tearfully say, "You make a beautiful bride!"

His love of his family was strong. And he was a proud father. My brother says he could see Dad in his sights in Spartan Stadium as he played his horn...how Dad knew just knew where to stand was a mystery we have never solved. He went to all of our activities...he took me to Chicago to get my violin.  He cried when on his way home from dropping me off at college for the first time. "She's just a baby," he said through tears.

And I just remembered another thing my mom told me years ago. They were sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office, waiting for one of my checkups when I was about a toddler, I think. Dad looked around the room and bragged to Mom, "No one has a daughter as beautiful as mine."

So, I have known a lot of heroes in my life. My husband. My brothers. Many many people. But my first hero? That was my father.

I love you, Daddy.

Tam