My Father's Son

I'm sort of my family's historian. I listened when my parents told family stories and I asked questions. I was curious. But some things just didn't come up. And to be fair, there's plenty I didn't tell them--and I mean good things too! =) But there's a lot I didn't know.

Growing up, I often wondered why I was the one responsible for making sure things got done (digging ditches, cutting down trees, etc.), going with my dad on his SWAT maneuvers, looking out for my 3 much older sisters, minor (and not so minor) car repairs, and the list goes on. Where were my older brothers???

I just learned from a former neighbor (lady who picked me up in the nail through my foot post) that my mother told my dad he wasn't allowed to parent my brothers because he was too hard on them--one for being too meek and one too hot-headed. Today, my brothers still talk about Dad trying to instigate fights between them. They don't know it, but he hoped to toughen up one and calm down the other. They came away from the experience believing the other was Dad's favorite. When I hear them talk about it, I laugh and tell them they're crazy--that I was the favorite. I wasn't--they know it's a joke.

But it turns out I was the son he could attempt to mold without interference. Of course, he didn't completely stop parenting my brothers (he gave them grief too). But they were our mother's sons and I was his. Writing that makes me laugh, because it sounds so ridiculous. Such a weird family. But now I understand why responsibilities fell to me, why I was always the one to help him, and why my dad only lectured me (rides home from church were almost unbearable) about morals, values and oh-by-the-way, you kids need to grow up and get out. LOL!

I also found out what my dad thought of me. What I heard from him over the years was that I didn't do anything right, the decisions I made about school were mistakes, getting married was a mistake (no one is wrong all the time ;P), every job I took was a mistake (until the moves led me to a pretty cool job, then he was "glad I followed his advice"--Ugh!). You can see his attempt at "molding" me didn't exactly work. I went my own way.

But according to the neighbor, my dad was always proud of me. She claimed when I was a kid he talked often about how he only had to describe a task for me to be able to do it (like making concrete stepping stones). That I was independent. Did well in school. That I was responsible, the youngest this or the first that. Who knew???

Honestly, I'm not sure I believe it. Perhaps the lady was just being kind. It's MUCH more likely that's what she thought of me. She always liked me--and isn't above spinning a good yarn. I guess I'll never be sure.

The lesson here is don't be afraid to tell your kids (or anyone) when they do something right.