left of the district

I was on the phone yesterday to dispute a charge on my credit card and as the call was wrapping up the woman on the other end of the phone mixed up her standard closing on me:

“Thank you sir, and if you’re a father, have a happy Father’s Day.”

Pause.

Now, I am not saying that I have any resemblance to a bull in a field of heifers, but I did stop to think for a moment before responding to her comment.

“I am not a father, but thank you.”

Given the substantial scientific evidence which suggests that most sperm would perish within 3-7 days inside of a woman’s body, not to mention the length of time since that situation has occurred in my life, I felt safe in my response.

Once I hung up the phone, I couldn’t help but think what my life would be like if my answer was different. At age 25 I still lack the discipline to balance a checkbook and make it out of bed before noon on the weekend, among other vices.

I suppose the above was my roundabout way of giving my dad some mad props. He was a bright eyed newlywed and a father at age 19 and never looked back. If he had it to do all over again, he would be working with technology because it has always been an interest of his, but by the time he was supporting two children and a wife it was too late to turn back.

My father has worked several odd jobs within banking institutions and federal loan programs for the last 30 years, but he has been best at being a father first. There was never a season where he missed the chance to coach our sports teams, take us out into the wilderness to search for fossils, or teach us the fine art of being a handyman or cooking an animal on an open flame.

As much as I’m living out my career in technology and exploring the east coast for myself, in some ways it’s also for dad. Being given the chance to do the things he chose only to dream of in order for my brother and I to succeed is something I can’t easily repay. This is the stuff that heros are made of.

Much Love Dad.

-cc