A Life Well Lived and Some Other Stuff about Life and Death.

This is a post about death and dying and life and living.  I know.  I'm sorry.  It's where I'm at right now.  It's what is happening in my world.  So I am using my blog to process.  Because I can't afford therapy.  I will not be offended if you stop reading right now.  Maybe you don't feel like crying.  But if you do need a good cry, this might be a good post to read.  It's making me cry.  But I tend to do that a lot these days.  So now that you have been warned, stick around or don't.  Either way, it's all good.

I think I mentioned in a previous post how ironic I think it is that I am dealing with end of life issues at the very same time that I am trying to create a rebirth for myself and my family.  As I contemplate the marks left on communities by those who are leaving us, I am still struggling to find my place in the world. As I feel sadness for the loss of people close to me, I feel joy and gratitude for those who have been sent for me to raise and nurture.  One day finds me holding a dying man's hand, 

 

while the next finds me helping very much alive and overly-excited boys make a lemonade stand to earn money. 

The emotional toll this juxtaposition has taken on me is exhausting, mentally and physically.  My brain keeps trying to process deep life and death concepts that make me think about my own mortality and my own happiness (or lack of) and other complicated stuff that causes me pain to think about.  Not liking it at all.  At. All.  I keep trying to shut it all out by just focusing on living in the moment and enjoying each moment for what it is.  Except some moments are kind of painful.  Like watching someone you love pass away. 

For a few weeks now I have been watching my step-grandfather deteriorate and face the end of his life. Because he is 100% coherent and aware, it has been tough on him to deal with a body that refuses to give up the fight to live, even while it is shutting down and cannot support him any longer.  It has been tough on his family too, to watch him struggle to die with some kind of peace and dignity.  We were hoping it would be an easier passing for him.  It would have been nice for him to go to sleep one night and not wake up.  The phone call I got tonight indicated the further breakdown of his bodily systems and I was told that he may not make it through the night. Even now though, during these last hours, he is experiencing much discomfort and frustration.  I hate that this is how he has to experience death.  

I have been blessed over the last month to spend some days sitting with him as he winds up his time here on earth.  He is an amazing man.  He has some incredible stories about growing up in Oklahoma during the Dust Bowl years, about working for the Civilian Conservation Corp during the Depression and about surviving D-Day on Omaha beach during World War II.  He lived through some of the worst times this country has seen.  

Despite struggling to endure and survive some really tough and sad situations, my grandfather never dwells on the negative aspects of his experiences.  If he mentions the pain or negativity at all, it's kind of in passing and then he quickly moves on to the valuable lessons he learned from what he went through. He is seriously one of the most positive, upbeat people I have ever known.  The last few weeks of visits haven't brought much conversation from him.  It's painful for him to talk because he can't breathe well.  But I talk to his nurses and others who stop by to see him.  In spite of his weakened state, he offers them a smile or a quick hello.  They offer hugs in return.  Even the cook came out of the kitchen to see if her "favorite guy" wanted anything special for dinner.  There is never an unkind or impatient word about him from anyone in the facility, or for that matter, in his life. They talk about his humor, his enthusiastic attitude, his positive outlook and his ability to remember names.  He leaves a lasting impression of all that is good about humanity on everyone he meets.  

 

When he married my grandmother after she left her horribly abusive first  husband, he changed not only her life, but ours as well.  He opened his heart and his home to her and her family without hesitation.  It was his idea to invite my grandmother's mother to live with them instead of living by herself halfway across the country as she started to suffer from the effects of a stroke.  And even though he loves Idaho, he was happy to relocate every winter to Phoenix after they retired so my grandmother could be closer to us.  Her life was so much better because he understood the give and take required to have a happy marriage and he understood that her family (no matter how messed up he thought we might be) was part of the package.  He never judged us.  He accepted us and did his best to love us. I am going to miss him an awful lot when he's gone.  Strength of character, a positive outlook, a kind heart and resilience will be his legacies.  I hope I have learned enough from him to emulate him even just a little as I continue my own earthly journey. 

There's so much more I want to say about Grandpa Russ, but I don't have the words tonight.  I just know that I'm a better person for having known him.  And I know when he is reunited with my grandmother in Heaven, he will have nothing but great things to say about his life here on earth.  Even the dying part.  I know he will find a lesson in all that suffering.  I hope I can say the same thing about my struggles some day.  

Until then, I will say thank you to a great man who served his family, his country and his God well.  

These are the Moms of My Life

I am a mom.  To be specific, I am a Boymom.  Mom of two boys.  And it is absolutely the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, trying to be a great mother so I can teach these two amazing kids how to be the best men they can be. 

Had anyone told me when I was 20 that I would relish this role, I would have called them a crack smoker.  But honestly?  I can't imagine doing anything different with my life. 

So while I take a few minutes to prepare for the onslaught of effort that will be made on my behalf to make Mother's Day a special day for me (from church programs sang by fidgety kids to funny, little handmade gifts and a burnt toast breakfast), I want to take a minute to smother the mothers I have in my life with oodles of love and appreciation.

Some of you know my life history.  Life's circumstances meant I lived in a few different homes growing up, so I have had the blessing of having more than one motherly figure in my life.  I want to take a minute to honor them all.

My "foster" mom is an amazing woman who opened her heart and her home to welcome my sister and me when we needed somewhere to go for a a few months because my mother's work took her out of town before our high school year ended.  D and her husband gave us a room and a family and a home life that we had not experienced before. 

I didn't appreciate how difficult it must have been for D to take on two more kids when she already had her own family.  I also didnt appreciate how much work she did to keep her family going.  D worked full-time outside of the home, then came home everyday to cook dinner and do laundry and assign chores and keep the house running.  

We didn't have a lot of heart to heart talks while I lived there because I was struggling with my own issues and didn't always see the wisdom of her ways.  Honestly, I wasn't sure she even liked me.  I didn't think she hated me, I just didn't think she cared one way or the other about me.  So it didn't seem like I'd be missing much when I decided to leave home and live on my own at 17 years of age.  I quit going to D's house and disappeared into the world to try to get away from my past. 

Imagine my surprise and amazement that D was one of the first people to welcome me home when I finally decided to quit running.  There was this wonderful woman, who had, unbeknownst to me, worked so hard those first few years that we lived there to be an example and model of what a mother should be.  She wasn't worried about being my best friend, she was more concerned with teaching me how to become a good woman, a loving wife and a successful mother.  And I was so busy rebelling and hurting that I missed it when I needed it the most. 

But D is a kind and forgiving mother who received me with open arms and unconditional love.  She has become one of my best friends.  I turn to her and her husband often for advice and they continue to include us in family events and offer us support as if we are still part of their clan.  Her faith in God and devotion to her own children and grandchildren continues to inspire me to work hard to create the kind of loving, eternal relationships that will always exist in her family.

My dad's sister K is an amazing woman.  My husband calls her "Mom to the World."  Her capacity to love is bottomless and she is one of the most non-judgemental, kind people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

We went to live with K when I was about 10 or 11 and we stayed with them for 4 years, while my Dad was supposedly getting his collective crap together.  Life at K's house was normal, which was a good thing for us.  We hadn't experienced normal up until then, so it was nice to relax and feel safe where we lived. 

K went out of her way to make sure we felt loved and appreciated and did it with very little help from her husband (who was an OTR truck driver who was hardly ever home) and very little monetary support from my dad.  It wasn't easy for her or for us on many levels.  She took care of 6 kids everyday.  She was up before us every morning with breakfast on the table and made sure we ate dinner as a family every night. 

Looking back I can see now that we were pretty poor.  There was very little money for anything other than basic necessities, but K always managed to find a way to make sure we had what we needed.  Best of all, she treated us like she treated her own kids.  She made us her own while we were under her care and we never felt like we didn't belong.  I love K.  K is a caretaker in every sense of the word.  She nutures and loves and gives with all of her heart to anyone who needs to feel the healing powers that love creates.  She truly is "Mom to the World."

Finally, I want to send a giant cyber hug to my biological mom.  My mom had a rough start in life herself.  She was forced to leave home at a very young age when her father had an emotional breakdown and became physically abusive.  She had no support from my grandmother, who I suppose was scared for her own life at that point and my mom ended up becoming a teenage mother at the age of 17.  She did her best to make things work with my dad, but in the end I think lack of maturity and support led to their divorce.  I was 5 yrs old at the time and didn't see my mom again until I was 10 or 11 years old. 

I used to wonder why she didn't try harder to get custody of us.  A few years ago I ran across some letters she wrote to my dad right after they split up.   She was asking to spend some time with us.  She had tried on more than one occasion to see us, but it seems my stepmother wouldn't allow it.  That was a big moment for me.  I started to realize that some of my resentment and frustration about her not being there for us was probably misplaced.  Suddenly she was not as much of an uncaring mother as I thought she was and I had to kind of adjust my thought process regarding her departure.

We spent a few summers with her when I turned 10 or 11 and then when I turned 15 she decided she wanted custody, so we left my Aunt's house and went to live with my mom.  I won't lie.  It was a tough transistion.  My mom hadn't been around kids or raised kids before and she wans't used to having to share her time or space with two teenage girls.  We had no real previous relationship with her and it wasn't easy to create one, for any of us.  

I try not to blame anyone for how things went down, my mom and I were victims of a lot of bad circumstances.  What I realize now is that for all of the hard times we had with each other, trying to figure out how to live together and bond, I know deep down my mother really cared about me.  She just didn't communicate that very well, or at least the way that I needed to hear it. 

The fact is, as I look back, I can see she was doing her best to show me she cared by trying to help me become a self-sufficient, competent, hard-working person.  I didn't always appreciate how hard it must have been for her to overcome her upbringing (or lack of) enough to try to share herself with two girls who really would rather not have moved in with her in the first place.  I wonder if she laid there at night sometimes thinking that she'd made a huge mistake.  It didn't help that she worked 7 days a week and didn't have a lot of time to help us acclimate to our new surroundings.  We didn't know to ask for what we needed and she didn't understand how badly we were struggling.

I ended up going my own way and trying to create the kind of life I wanted, but always at some point in my travels, I ended up back at home, close to my mom.  Because I really didn't know what else to do.  Something in my heart just wouldn't let me give up on trying to figure out how to love and be loved back by the woman who brought me into this world. 

There's so much more to this story, but the bottom line is this:  because I am a mother myself, I am finally able to see things from a different point of view when it comes to my mother.  She is no longer the person who left me, who wouldn't take the time to understand and help me when I was a scared teenager.  She is an sensitive and kind hearted person who could not take one more bit of pain in her life and so she became tough to survive.  She did the best with what she had and she took responsibility for her children when she was finally able to and raised us the best way she knew how.

She really IS the female John Wayne.  Tough as leather on the outside, heart of gold on the inside.  I'm glad her heart has finally been exposed.  It's a good heart. 

She has become a wonderful grandmother who is working hard to love and support her grandkids and she has a wicked sense of humor.  She taught me a lot about fighting injustice and taking a stand and speaking out when someone needs defending.  She taught me how to work hard, although I think she wonders if I have learned that lesson sometimes, as I can't seem to find my place in the world when it comes to providing for my family.  I won't go into that now, my mom deserves her moment in the sun. 

When push comes to shove, the bottom line really is this:  She has never given up on trying to be my mother.  She could have walked away so many times, starting with the day she found out she was pregnant.  She didn't though.  She chose to have me.  She gave me life.  And then she tried, time and time again to be a part of my life after we were separated.  And despite all of our struggles growing up together, she continues to try to understand me and all of my issues.  I know it's hard for her to watch me struggle.  I know she wonders why I can't get my crap together.  I wonder myself.  But that doesn't keep her from staying in touch.  

She tries to offer advice without being judgmental and she offers financial support when she knows it will help.  I think I'm her problem child and I know her life would be easier if she didn't have to worry about me.  But she's still hanging in there, trying her hardest to fill the role I need her to fill. 

I suck at telling her how much I love and appreciate her because it's just now becoming ok for us to talk about stuff like that and sometimes it still feels awkward.  But it shouldn't be awkward anymore. 

Which is why I want to publicly thank her and the other women in my life who continue to rally around me and my family.   Thanks for the love, the patience, the examples and the support.  I would not be the mother I am today had you ladies not been part of my life. 

Happy Mother's Day! 

   

Late Merry Christmas Post!

It seems like this entire year has found me constantly running behind, in almost every aspect of my life.  It has been a chaotic, unpredictable, rough and tumble year for Boymom and my family!  So it seems fitting that I should end the year like I started, frantically trying to pull together a Holiday blog post before the year ends and I miss the opportunity to thank my friends, family and my wonderful readers for sticking with me and coming back here from time to time to read my...stuff.

So...how was your Christmas?  Ours, although hectic, ended up being a pretty good Christmas.  This year we really tried to focus more on the spiritual aspects of the holiday and less on the gift giving (lack of money was how that idea started, we decided to run with it!).  The gifts we did give were a lot more practical than in years past and thanks to the generosity of friends, family and a Secret Santa, the boys got more than they (or we) expected.  By the end of Christmas Day, I was feeling pretty grateful and extremely blessed.

I think this year, more so than any in the recent past, I truly felt the Spirit of Christmas in my own heart.  Maybe because I quit focusing on what we didn't have and what wasn't working and started focusing on what I could give back.  It was a joy and a pleasure to watch my boys get excited about our own Secret Santa project, which didn't amount to a whole lot of money, but definitely showed my boys that there are people in the world who are so much worse off than we are.  Little Man almost broke into tears when he realized that there are people who literally have nothing other than the clothes on their backs.  Listening to him pray that night for the well-being of a stranger we met who was living under a tree in a park is a Christmas experience his dad and I will cherish the rest of our lives.

I'm glad we took the time to help my boys understand that it's not about the gifts.  It's about being a good human being during a season when we celebrate the birth of one of the greatest beings ever to walk the earth.

(Ignore the tighty whities and focus on the Nativity, please.  The nativity set, people!!!

Merry Christmas, my dear bloggy friends.  Thank you for your wonderful examples, your kind and caring words, your generosity of spirit and good will.  You have made a difference in this Boymom's life.

My Gratitude Post

So you've all listened to me whine and complain and vent and stress and whatever else it is that I do and have done over the last two years on this blog when it comes to my personal and wanted professional life.  I'm sure there are times when you all wonder if I am EVER going to make peace with my issues and finally lay them to rest!?!  You know what?  I wonder the same thing.  And I can tell you that I am closer than I have ever been to just letting go of all those things that have kept me from living the kind of life I want for me and for my family.  My boys and my husband (and myself, for that matter!) deserve the best I can give them and I have not given any of us the best of who I am.

The last months/year have brought comments and support from all kinds of people in my life and for the first time ever, I feel like I have finally been in a place to receive the help with humility and gratitude, rather than with embarrassment and guilt.  Being able to accept the help without feeling like a loser was a huge step for me.  Without those feelings of worthlessness and stupidity clouding my view, I see things from a very different perspective.  For the first time in a very long time I have hope that my life can be the life I want it to be, regardless of my past, regardless of who I married, regardless of my parenting skills, regardless of my level of education, regardless of the stress that comes with each new trial.  I can be the person I want to be, inspite of what my negative self says.

I know, this is like 2nd grade psychology.  I tell my kids stuff like this everyday.  I just never tell myself stuff like this.  But other people have been good about telling me stuff like this.  People like my friend with the very funny son who makes hilarious videos.  She's been quietly following my blog for some time now.  She never leaves comments so I had no idea she read my posts.  Until she sent me an email after I freaked out about that job I didn't get but really wanted.  She gave me some excellent advice, which I followed.  I still didn't get that particular job, but I feel a lot better about my ability to get that killer job, whenever I run across another one.  So I want to thank my new friend for taking the time to offer a kind word and some really good counsel.  She made a difference in my life.

I have to thank my family.  My mom and sister have gone out of their way to help me work through the financial situation with which we have struggled for the past 2 years.  I know they look at me sometimes and wonder what is wrong with me and why I make the choices I make.  I have wondered the same thing, on many, many occasions.  All I can say is that part of the reason I have had the financial struggle is because I have had to struggle with other demons that have kept me from being able to go forward sometimes.  But I think I finally have a handle on all of emotions and I am done being helpless and paralyzed by fear.  Thanks for not judging me. 

I also want to thank my regular readers:  Miss Hope, Miss Pike, Kristi, Sports Mama, Queen of Chaos,  Deana, Denise, Tam, Trisha, Alepuz, Koni, Bandana Mom, Party of Six, Suzanne, all the other Boy Moms out there and the many, many other readers who stop by regularly to stay in touch and either commiserate or laugh at my endless conundrums.  I love and appreciate each and every one of you.  Even the chick who posts in whatever Asian language you write in.  I don't know what you are saying, but thanks for the effort.

Bear with me, people, I know this is starting to sound like an Academy Award speech.  I just need to do this while I am still  full of gratitude today.  Tomorrow might find me exhausted and grumpy again, with no desire to say anything nice to anybody.

I also want to thank the companies who have worked with me to offer products for my review and giveaways for my readers.  I have gotten to know many of you on a more personal level and have enjoyed making new friends (Maria and Amy and BSM Media, Jeff, Jason).  You have all been extremely helpful when I have asked for advice or help or even sponsorships.  It means a lot to me that you are willing to give me the opportunity to use my writing skills to help promote your products.  I work hard to give honest reviews and to let the people in my circle of influence know about who you are and what you have to offer in the way of products that are family friendly, I hope that my efforts have helped you as much as you have helped me.  It has been so rewarding and fun to share what you make and sell with the people around me, in my neighborhood and around the blogosphere.  The fact that I am kind of the "gal-in-the-know" who gets the cool hook-ups has shot me up the cool ladder about 8 rungs.  So thanks for helpin' a sistah get some street creds, guys. 

This post is getting long now and I can feel eyes glazing over as some of you keep reading and reading and reading and thinking "Oh my Gosh! Does she ever stop talking?" Nope. I don't. So I will wrap this post up for today and continue my gratitude post as Part 2 tomorrow. Lots of love and hugs to all my blog friends and family! Ya'll rock out loud!

Why Do I Have to Keep Saying It?

Overheard in the back of my car today on the way to school:

"Big Brother, I love you."

"I know, Little Man."

"Aren't you gonna say it back?"

"(Heavy sigh) Little Man...I have to love you. I'm your brother."

Okay...not exactly the loving sentiment I would have liked him to return, but at least he feels some kind of obligation toward his younger brother. I guess that's better than them fighting. I hope he grows out of his apathy toward his sibling soon and returns to being his loving self.

Too Much of a Good Thing

I just cannot get caught up with myself this week! I am behind on EVERYTHING! Plants are dead from lack of water and cat attacks, house is trashed, laundry piling up, need groceries. Cannot get a handle on things! I wonder if it has to do with the fact that my husband is home all day right now and will not leave me ALONE for one second!!!! God love him, he really needs a hobby.


Like maybe patching the woodpecker hole?!

Sister Love

My sister and I are very close. We live about a half hour away from each other. We talk to each other on the phone almost every day, calling each other anywhere from 1 to 10 times. We discuss things. We chat. We vent. We share and we laugh.

One time she called about something and during the course of the conversation, she mentioned milk was on sale at a local grocery store. I was talking about it and my husband overheard. He was dumbfounded. "She called you to tell you milk is on sale?" My response? "Umm yeah...that's what we do. We call each other...like 6 times a day." He just shook his head and walked away. My sister overheard the whole thing and we both started laughing at the fact that men just don't get it.

It's Sistah Love!!

Wrap Me Up in This!

I just came across this site, Old Red Barn Co., as I was bloghopping. Besides being a cool blog, Dana is giving away this amazing quilt! I "heart" this quilt and would so love to see it on my bed, or draped over the cradle my dad made for his first grandchild. Absolutely gorgeous! So trot on over to Old Red Barn and enter for yourself if you like...I know that just diluted my chances of winning, but hey...I feelin' the love, so why not pass it on!

I got TAGGED!!

So here it is...


20 years ago I was:
1. Just finished with graphics school and working for a typesetter for very little money.
2. Trying to break into the corporate world.
3. Wearing the finest in '80's apparel and sporting big hair.

10 years ago I was:
1. Still a newlywed - 7 months of wedded bliss.
2. Starting my own business - corproate concierge service.
3. Taking a trip to Spain with my Husband.

5 years ago I was:
1. Losing my own business.
2. Staying at home to take care of my 2 and 4 yr old boys.
3. Helping my husband start a new career.

1 year ago I was:
1. Moving into a new house.
2. Helping my brother-in-law through a horrible divorce.
3. Taking a family vacation to San Diego.

This year so far I have:
1. Cried alot.
2. Started a blog and started writing again.
3. Watched my youngest graduate from Kindergarten.

Today I will:
1. Buy some groceries (I know, boring).
2. Watch my kids' basketball games.
3. Help my husband find a job.

Tomorrow I will:
1. Put up a cieling fan.
2. Write a post for my blog.
3. Jump on the trampoline with my kids.

In the next year I will:
1. Learn to let go of the past and be happy.
2. Submit something I've written to be published.
3. Help my kids be happier people.


There ya go. I tag anyone on my blogrolls who hasn't already done this!! GO!!!

Props to My Pops

Okay, I know my posts haven't been all light-hearted and funny lately, don't mean to be a downer, just in a pensive mood I guess. Bear with me, after this Father's Day thing I'll lighten up. I feel like I need to do this, for my dads and for me. Probably more info than any of you need to know, so I won't be offended if you give up reading. It's a long post full of my ramblings. Blame it on the hormones and my 44th birthday (today), I guess.

Anyway...
I am one of those lucky kids that has 2 dads. Not lucky because of the divorce, but lucky because I have 2 dads that have offered me different kinds of support, both in very unique ways. Okay, what I am really saying is that this is my attempt to be positive about the situation I grew up in and honor my dads...roll with it, would ya?

My step-dad, John, is a unique person. He is the KING of Sarcasm. He is the kind of guy who can make a remark about you that is so cutting, yet at the same time so hysterically funny that you have to laugh, even though it's about you. He has nicknames for everybody... sometimes not very nice names, but funny nonetheless. He calls my kids Little Man and Big-Un. He's hard to get to know if you are related to him, he's kind of closed emotionally.

But growing up with him was an adventure. He liked to take us out and teach us how to target practice, so we learned how to use a gun. He used to take us out to these great places in New Mexico...old cemeteries and homesteads, where we would collect pottery and old bottles. He would heat up cans of Beenie Weenies in his truck engine while were driving so we always had lunch when we were exploring. When Pong and Atari came out he would challenge us to games and bet us $25 a game. I won like $100 one day. I lost half of it the next. He gave my sister and I $20 once (we were like 10 and 12 yrs old!) to go to Circle K to buy candy! Helloooo!!! Booyah!! What dad does that?! For a kid, even though he was hard to bond with, he could be a really fun person to hang out with.

He worked hard too. He trained Thoroughbred race horses, which is where I learned what I know about horses. He and his dad and my mom have quite a reputation in the business. I traveled the country for awhile grooming thoroughbreds at different tracks. I could get a job with anyone when I told them who my grandpa and step-dad are. I have him and my mom both to thank for those skills and love of horses.

He quit the track when he was 50ish, which is hard when it's all you've done your whole life. The racetrack is its own little world. It's hard to go out into the real world and function after living your life in that kind of a bubble. He should have been a coach. He loved football growing up. He has that no-nonsense "git in there and git 'er done" attitude about working out and sports. When he quit, he went and started a whole new career. At 50ish! He had to pass a physical and take numerous tests and he passed! The man hadn't been to school in 30 plus years, and with nothing but a high school diploma and the brains God gave him goes and starts a new career! I saw a strength of character in him then that I have come to admire and appreciate.

He's a wonderful story teller, hysterically mesmerizing with off the wall comments and experiences that no one can ever begin to match. It's like the old Dean Witter commercials...when John talks, everybody stops to listen. Because you know it will be one of the most unforgettable stories you have ever heard.

He's cynical and wise and funny and gruff...like John Wayne. And TOUGH! He got into this fight one time with these 2 young kids. He was like, 40. They popped off to him and called him an old man. "You want some of this, Old Man?" Yeah...big mistake. They ended up fighting in a mud puddle. The 2nd kid figured out pretty fast that he was outmatched and stood by his car, watching the whole thing. When it was over, Step-dad had one kid by the nostrils..."Say your sorry to the old man, son." Son apologized, crawled out of the mud, walked to his car with his friend silently staring in disbelief and sped off into the sunset. Great story. True story. Either that or Step-dad fell in the puddle and needed to save face. Not likely though, I've seen him in action.

Watch the movie "The Cowboys." John Wayne in that movie IS my step-dad. Hard to get to know, but worth the effort.

My biological Dad, Wayne, is no longer here. Father's Day without him is hard, because he was truly my number one supporter and my greatest fan. He had his flaws, but none of them mattered to me because he was one of the few adults in my life who accepted me for me and didn't try to make me fit into their idea of who I should be. He wasn't always physically there for me like I wanted him to be. To be fair, now that I am an adult, I can see that it took him a long time to grow up. I can see that some of the issues my mom had with him were real and probably hard to deal with as a spouse. Still doesn't change my love for him. They weren't my issues, I guess.

He was this hilarious practical joker. He hot-wired a girl's car in high school so that when she tried to start the car it shocked her. He trapped his friend in the outhouse at work (construction site - he was like 45 at the time) by parking his truck against the door. Fun stuff. Anyway, you get the idea. He tried to enjoy his life. He was an avid outdoorsman, truly missed his calling. He should have been Park Ranger. He knew every inch of Arizona. He built the roads through half of the state. He was a great camp cook, he could make coffee in a paper bag on a campfire. He was a hard worker. He was a great boss. He was always helping someone.

He was great with people. People loved my Dad. He gave love freely, with no attachments. Even his ex-wives have great things to say about him (along with some not great things, but those are few). He rarely lost his temper. He accepted everyone where they were at, no judgement. For all of his flaws, he was a great dad. He encouraged me, he loved me, he accepted me and he apologized to me for not taking the time to be in my life like he should have been. And that spoke volumes to me about his true character, despite his flaws. When he finally realized he had messed up in certain areas with me, he took the time to try to rectify it.

He called me his diamond in the rough. To this day I can't understand what he saw in me that made him think I could do great things. But he never missed an opportunity to let me know that he knew I could achieve great things. Maybe one day I will. He left us before he knew his grandkids. That kills me. Because he would have been a fantastic Grandpa.

Two different men, two different personalities, both offered me things I hope to carry with me and use the rest of my life. For their love and support, their humor and examples, I thank them both. Happy Father's Day.

Wanna share your Dad stories? I would love to hear them!