Short Stories

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My Dad, (My Hero)

When I look over my life at those who have had the biggest impact there is one that stands out amongst all others. Even though I only knew him for 27 years my dad was my hero. The loyalty that he had for his kids and the love that he showed in his own way deeply affected me. Dad was never a hugger until he became involved in our little country church. He loved to play with me and my brother; we seemed to have wrestling matches on a regular basis.

We were raised in a very masculine way; I say that in the sense that we loved being outdoors, hunting, camping and the like. In the military he was quite an accomplished boxer and he hated to loose any fight. It was very difficult to watch him loose his fight with lung cancer, but even to the end he maintained control of our family. From his hospital bed he gave each of us instructions on what he expected from us after he was gone.

In our early years we attended church but viewed church going like a spectator sport, we just never really got involved, we went through the motions but none of us really had a heart for church. So much so that when I graduated High School we all just stopped going altogether.

Dad had been captured during World War 2 and through a series of events ended up in a concentration camp in Germany. Not only did this experience affect his long term health but it also helped him to grasp the value of life and family. He shared very little of his experiences in Germany till just before his death. Dad was a disciplinarian and never tolerated back talk or any childish rebellion. His work ethic was simple, if it is worth having its worth working for. That applied as a teenager and also when I went to college. He wanted us to be proud of our own accomplishments and to know the gratification of a job well done.

I can still see the proud look on his face when I graduated, his face lit up like a lighthouse, you could almost hear him say, “That’s my boy”. The many hours of hard work and years of struggle to attain that degree were all worth while when I saw his proud look. Later as I pastored my first church you could often find dad in the first pew, my most loyal fan.

I miss him till this day and often times when I reach a goal I say dad I sure hope you’re proud of me because that matters a great deal to this day. I can almost hear him answer back, I knew you could do it Steve and I am proud of you. Dad will be the second person I look for in heaven, you can guess who will be the first.

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