Intelligent. Tenacious (I get it on both sides, lol).
Hardworking. Charismatic. My father was (and still is) all of those things, and
I admired him for it. I’m not sure if it was inherited or learned, but “I Can
Do It” was my motto as a child, and I got it from my father. For me, it wasn’t
so much a statement of my self-confidence (I struggled with that for years),
but more so that I wished to at least be allowed the opportunity to attempt whatever
task presented itself. My father hungered for knowledge. If he didn’t know how
something worked, he would learn. If he didn’t know how to fix something, he
would read up on it, or inquire of someone who knew how, and then try it
himself. He showed me by example that there’s always a way to find out what you
wish to know. In my own thirst for knowledge as a child, I developed a
particular affinity for words. I loved discovering new words, but asking my father
for their meaning was futile. “Look it up” never failed to be his response. As
frustrating as this was, it was his way of pushing me to open the dictionary,
to seek the knowledge for myself, so that I did. I appreciate that to this day.
Knowledge is power, and we were not created to be weak.
My father was an observer. He didn’t miss much, if anything.
Even if he didn’t speak on it right away, it was information filed away for
later use. Whereas my mother was more likely to dive head first into a new social
setting almost naïve to any potential dangers, my father would take things in
first, pleasant all the while, but trusting after it was earned. He never said
this, but I’m pretty sure that he tried to read people like books, flipping through
their pages as he observed their actions, searching for a premise or plot to
their behavior. There were times when I felt like he didn’t notice me, like he
didn’t know me, but then out of the blue, he would do something for me so
perfect that I knew I was being observed intently. My father was an adapter,
and was driven to excel. Not only did he want to know how to do that thing you
did, he wanted to know how to do it better than you did. To be at least above
average was always the goal; to be good was frustrating at best; to be just
okay was nearly unacceptable. I struggle balancing that same drive to be
excellent with the need to appreciate all that I am and have in this moment.
But I thank my father for showing me that I didn’t have to settle. Period.
Knowledge is power, and we were not created to be weak.
Like so many of us, I have some rather deep-seated issues
with both of my parents that I am working through. I am working hard to let go
of the negative and to forgive, point blank. Frankly, that’s hard as hell at times,
but writing this blog was necessary to help me along on that road. By
committing it to writing (and the interwebs), I am choosing to acknowledge the
wonderful foundation my parents laid for me to be the man and musician I am
today and the man and musician I wish to be tomorrow. I thank them, and I thank
you, whoever you are, for taking the time to read this.
-j.
