my dad was never a "great" man in that he had dreams, and didn't really accomplish many of them. He was a marine, and served in Vietnam, but oddly, was a non-combatant. He was a crash crewman, a fireman that worked the flight deck of the marine base's flightline. He used to tell me some stories about Vietnam, and I never felt badly of him that he wasn't called to "fight"... he served in his own way. Seeing the way that many of those vets were treated later, I'm rather glad he got lucky enough to be just a grunt!
My mother and he split when I was ten, and it was for a good thing. Pretty sad when your folks tell you that they're getting a divorce, and the ten year old looks right at you and says, "Thank God... I thought you guys were going to kill each other!"
Years of living with my grandparents made me who I am in many ways. I'll always think of my grandpa as my other dad. He taught me about sarcasm, how to appreciate a good moment of humor, and he instilled in me a work ethic that's rare in today's world. He taught me to box, and taught me how to curse!
! He also taught me about kindness, despite not being "a religiious man", yet he never ridiculed my choice of religion. In fact, when I grew up questioning that which had been pounded in my head, it was my Grandfather's example that taught me that "not only Christians are GOOD people!"
Anyway, years of my dad being ostracised for being a good ol' boy and never a man of large dreams had made my father take a rather reclusive outlook, and he bottled it all in. When I came back from the military, to my surprise, he was working in my old hometown... it took many, MANY months of going over there on the weekends. He didn't have much. Just a small 13" black and white TV, one chair he'd salvaged from the trash... and a milk crate or two. He felt really bad that he couldn't offer me anything, or even have another chair to sit on. I told him that I didn't want much... just to sit and watch tv with him, drink some cold beer, stuff like that. FINALLY after six months, he really broke down, embarrassed that he wasn't a good "dad".
I told him that I was just happy to be his son, and guys, I wasn't even his "natural" son... he adopted me when the man that was my father wouldn't do the right thing... and I think that made our relationship extra special. To me, that just spoke of a love and devotion.
I told dad that I just wanted to be his son, and to have a relationship NOW. I didn't care about the past. I was happy with who I was, and didn't need to have years of mistakes "fixed"... I was a man of 25 that just wanted to get to know his dad.
He really broke down at that.
Just recently, I went down to see him. Again, years of being a hard worker has ruined his health... years of being a smoker and drinker have paid the ultimate toll on his body. But he still gets up every day, and is tickled pink to walk his dog (inherited from his wife that he married, and she passed away a couple years later) in the morning, and again after he comes home. His washer (my grandma's original one of over 35 years) finally urped and died... and he didn't have the money to replace it. Having just left my old job, I had my 401K settlement, and didn't blink an eye on getting one for him. Nothing fancy, but a new one with a warrenty, and he was as happy as a bug on a rug.
He feels bad that I am getting him stuff... I told him it wasn't no big thing. I'm certain if the roles were reversed, and he had a tad small amount of money, he wouldn't think twice on helping me.
In fact, that's what my grandparents did for me until I was in my mid-twenties... constantly making dumb mistakes, and then I'd come running to them until I got old enough to realize that was rather stupid!
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Here's to BOTH my dads!