Tuesday, June 18, 2013
I know that fathers day has come and gone; however when I think about my dad, I find it sad that we attempt to celebrate the fact that he is a father only once a year. Growing up in our little town, my father is known to most as Mr. Bates. For a long time he was the auto-body teacher, he was a father to 3 kids and then when we were all grown up (in our own mind) and ready to move out Courtney blessed his life. His dreams of Mexico, motorcycles and beer was suddenly taken up with dirty diapers, teething and dare I say it, another freaking girl! Mr. Bates from the outside looking in, is a man of few words, somewhat intimidating, big in presence and stature. He doesn't say much, that task is left up to my mother; who has enough words of wisdom for the both of them. I always wondered what it would be like to have him as a teacher. There were kids who took his class who loved him! And if you ever wondered if he was as cool at home as he was at school, that would be a yes. He was not a warm fuzzy parent, but he was always loving and engaged. He left the warm fuzzies to my mother who could squeeze and kiss the crap out of you every moment of every day. My father is not a carebear and sunshine kinda guy, he also left that up to my mother and her wide voculabary of nonsense. My father does listen, does support and does it in a kinda way that feels genuine to the core. He has the biggest and most manly hands I've seen or had to pleasure to hug me when my life got to be too much. He was dead set on teaching us life lessons, that at the time felt like punishment. I joke all the time, that I became an accountant because I didn't want to shovel horse shit. That is really no joke! I a not above doing anything, whether it be clean the toilet, mow the lawn, wipe asses or shovel horse crap. But IF I get a choice, and apparently I do, I choose to not shovel, mow or clean toilets on a regular basis. Now the wiping butts part, well that depends on my day at work - haha! My father is a man of few words, but has a head full of stories and good times wrapped up in the brain on his. So if you are ever lucky enough to catch him on a day when he is smoking something in the smoker, drinking a beer or two and belly laughing at himself; I recommend you pull up a chair and take a moment to induldge in the nonsense. My mother will be annoyed, so you won't have to hear her chatter as my fathers glides down memory lane. He is dead set on making memories that last a life time, whether it be for his wife, his kids or his grandkids. My children will always have extremely fond memories of my father. And as they reach back into their memory bank they will also remember his smile and his laughter; most of it caused by one of his 9 grandchildren. One of their favorite places to be is a home that my father created- and a pond that has tad poles, spring water and a field that keeps them hunting for bugs and enough room to ride 4wheelers. A barn that has allowed them to have birthday parties, egg tosses, bon fires, motorcycle rides, fake tattoos, music and more laughter than you can every put a price on. the kind of laughter that makes you want to bottle it up and save it for a rainy day. The kind of memories that make you wish everyone could have a family like yours, because despite the wack-a-doodle personalities it is golden! At the core of this treasure is my father, not full of glitter and shine (that is for the ladies in his life); but tarnished and weathered looking from a life well lived and full of life lessons and love that is endless if you are willing to take it in the manner in which he gives. So dear dad, as father day comes and goes. And I know how you love a hallmark holiday - NOT! I will say this,I thank god everyday that you are my father and hope you know that your life lessons have not been lost. We are even blessed enough to have your dry sense of humor, shinning blue eyes and a smirk that makes everyone wonder what the "hell". I love you seems so small, but it is all I have. So with that..enjoy your day!