Thank you Dad.

I wrote this blog post 2 years ago. As a tribute to one of my life's greatest soldiers.

In 2011, when I wrote this post, my Dad was facing a diagnosis that rocked the world of my parents. Parkinson's Disease.

My Mom and Dad formed a two person army to face this new battle. And, true to the caliber of their spirits - my parents face living with Parkinson's courageously.  I am humbled daily by their steadfast Faith, their love for their family and each other. Parkinson's has met it's match in them.

So, here it is again...... A Thank you to my Dad....

I clearly remember the times I sat at the dinner table with my parents and my little sister while we listened to the air planes flying overhead. The sounds of the jets and their engines noisily rang throughout our meal time conversations on a regular basis and were as common placed as dogs barking. I grew up just a little ways from the South Weymouth Naval Air Station – and air traffic was a normal part of our daily lives.

My father, on most occasions would have us run outside and watch the jets, planes and helicopters. That was my dad... always having us come and watch thunderstorms from the front porch, or waking us up in the middle of the night to come sit on lounge chairs while wrapped in blankets and watch a meteor shower… 

Even hurricanes brought us more than their fair share of excitement -- Sometimes the force of the hurricane winds would lift us up off the ground as my father had us hold onto tarps – and “fly”. He would laugh – with tears in his eyes-  As if he himself was in awe of the strength at which nature would explode upon us…

Anyways, I cannot tell you how often we climbed up onto our roof to watch the “Blue Angels” perform their gracefully powerful air show maneuvers. Living near the air base was cool. My dad was cool.

I always knew that my dad was a Veteran of the Vietnam War. I knew he was injured during the war and was discharged honorably.  As all children do, I used to watch my dad closely, I had memorized every inch of his kindhearted and loving face. He had a piece of metal in one of his ears that could be seen visibly beneath the skin.

Again, I never asked why… because it had always been there. Occasionally we would notice when his ankle and leg would ache causing him to limp slightly. Those occasional times that we did catch him in pain --He would stand up tall and tell us that you had to push through the pain, work harder.. Focus your mind on healing – and your body would listen.

My father is and always has been an incredibly dedicated and hard worker – Nothing even stopped him.. He would not allow it to.

A diesel mechanic by trade, (a talented one at that!) he loved helicopters especially. I had known that he worked on the helicopters during his time spent in the military.  There were times, however; when the jets would be soaring loudly and my father would not run us outside to watch them write on the blue sky with their steaks of white -- He would just put down his fork and rest his head in his hands. 

I never knew that the sounds of those engines would occasionally remind him of the horror that he had experienced as a young soldier on watch duty. An experience that filled his body with shrapnel and  wounded him badly. An event that caused him to whiteness the violent loss of fellow soldiers, comrades… an experience that could cripple a man, make him bitter and resentful... but, not a man like my father.

My father never really spoke about his experience as a soldier until I was well into my late teens, early twenties. I had never heard the entire tale, until my father was asked to speak to our local youth group.  Although my father was a man who believed in peace, my father enlisted – he felt a love for his country and thought it his duty to serve it.  It was strange to hear him be referred to as a “disabled” Vietnam Veteran –  His struggles were of who he was. He was proud to be who he was… we were too.

My father, now in his 60s, has faced many other battles over the years on his journey since that war. I suppose it has given him perspective... maybe even some strength and courage to face the challenges that life continues to throw his way. His patience and acceptance never cease to amaze me.

Oh yes…and although for years he would never tell you this, my father is also a Purple Heart recipient.  

I think the heavens smiled upon him when he was born into this world.  The good Lord’s blessing to us, to this place we live.

For all that you have given throughout your years here on this crazy planet, and for all that you continue to give…Happy Veterans Day...

Thank you Dad.