My dad the athlete.

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When my brother and I were little my dad did not have many of his sports awards out. I never remember seeing his high school or college letters as a kid, and there were not medals on wall or framed newspapers of amazing achievements. The only thing I remember was a plaque hanging in a shadowed corner from when he won, and set a record for long jump at states his junior year of high school.

Through the years we heard stories of the kind of athlete he was and how much he achieved. When I was in elementary school he was inducted into his college’s sports hall of fame and we watched him coach through the years. So a part of us knew, but it was never hung all around us like a goal we were meant to reach.

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As an adult I have seen the patches, awards and news paper clippings. While flipping through it once I asked him why he never had any of it out. His response was simple. He never wanted to put pressure on my brother and I to be athletes. He never wanted his achievements to looming over us like an unescapable shadow.

At the moment my sports awards are out and hanging proudly on the wall. I worked hard for each of my patches and pins and it is nice to be reminded what can be achieved with a little bit of skill and hard work. But someday if I have kids they will go away. I will put them in a box and store them so I am never a shadow for them to escape. After all, I know how much that meant to me.

Happy Father’s Day.

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Papa, not dad.

When I was born my Mom wanted us to be different, so she decided that my dad would be called Papa. Over the years I have confused many people because of this, but I have always loved that my Mom wanted us to be different, and so thankful she succeeded.

1919296_514593021016_54437_nThere are not many pictures of Papa and I, at least not that my mom and I were able to find when we were putting together his yearbook dedication page. We are not a very photogenic family, besides I am usually the one with the camera. This picture of us has always been one of my favorites. I vaguely remember getting that yellow umbrella and being so excited about it. I am sure Papa had a great time helping me test it out.

On and off the past couple of weeks I have attempted to plan out what I could write about Papa for today’s post, but I have yet to find the right words. I remember years and years of camp, Sunday School and all manner of other events that Papa was my Mom’s silent support running around where needed. There were countless hot pool areas sat in and cold, rainy track meets attended. He got car sick teaching me to drive and took at least one quick run home to get me my retainer when I forgot it.

The more I think about it, the more impossible it is to truly articulate everything that Papa has meant to me. He is a corner stone in the frame work of my life and is always there to suppourt me. I could never have asked for a better Papa.

Happy Father’s Day.