My heroes growing up were the type to have highlights on ESPN. I loved Michael Jordan, Don Mattingly, Tim Brown, and anyone wearing Carolina Blue for the Heels. My six-year-old now dreams of being a Jedi Master. His heroes have gone from Woody, Buzz, and Lightning to Luke, Obi Wan, and Anikan. Sometimes our heroes evolve over time.
Over the last couple of days, I've thought through something that I've really know for a while now. My real hero didn't dribble, hit, or catch a ball for a living, carry a light saber, or have his daily highlights shown on SportsCenter. My hero wore khakis, drove a station wagon for the large portion of my childhood, and slept in the room next to mine. He is my dad.
After 42 years of service to the same company, he worked his last day for that company today. He was given a party, a lunch, several dozen golf balls, and a fancy new driver. However based on what I heard from those he worked with, he gave a lot more than that. He gave many nights, most weekends, and everything he had. Of course, I didn't need someone else to tell me those things to know that. He's the hardest worker that I know. That work ethic that he displayed inspired me and I'm sure countless others to always strive to achieve the best. He never spent money that he didn't have and always sacrificed for others. There are traits that I've always admired.
He's the first person I call when I'm unsure on something or need advice. He's the realistic voice that keeps me from making a choice that I know I really shouldn't make. I'm sure he's worried about the future ahead. It's all he's known for 42 years. I hope he enjoys the time that he has remaining; he's earned it. He's basically worked his entire life so it's time for him to enjoy the fruits of his hard work and sacrifice. That includes more baseball games, more tee times, and more time with the grandkids.
I love him, and I could not be more proud to call him my father. And hero...
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