Walk It Off

This past week my Dad celebrated his 80^th birthday, or at least I assume that he did. In fact I can picture him up there in heaven right now, eating cake and ice cream, and blowing out 80 candles with his huge smile and big dimples gleaming. It’s been 13 years since he died and I still miss him every day. His birthday reminded me how lucky I am to have had a Father who demonstrated his love for me daily, often with his famous “words of wisdom”, and even more often with his arms wrapped around me.

I learned so much from my Dad that helped me find happiness in my life, but I think there is one lesson that stands out from all the rest, a painful lesson but a very important one. I first learned it early on as a 10 year old little boy and then again as 40 year old man. It’s a lesson about courage.

The first time….. My Dad was in the Marine Corps so we didn’t have much money and often had to live in military housing. Talk about cheap, it doesn’t get any smaller or cheaper but at least our home was always filled with love. When I was 10 and Christmas rolled around, I wanted a bicycle. Every other kid on the base rode their bike to school except me, but I knew my parents couldn’t afford it. Somehow they came up with a brand new, shiny red Schwinn Bicycle, the exact one I had picked out of a magazine. I was the happiest kid on earth and immediately went for a ride with my friends. We stopped at a park and left our bikes on the curb. When we got ready to leave, I discovered my brand new bike was gone…stolen! I ran all the way home crying and I will never forget the look on my Dad’s face when I told him. A few days later, after the police reported they could not find my bike, my Dad and I sat down for a talk. He asked me if I remembered what the Coach of my Little League team told me when I got hit by a pitch.  Remember what the Coach told you…"Walk it off". Well, this is another one of those times when you are going to have to “Walk it off.” So I did, literally, walk it off, and…. kept walking to school. Over time, I learned to accept the situation and feel good that I handled it the way my Dad taught me.

 

The only picture I have of my new bike - Christmas Day 1965

The second time…. My Dad was dying from esophageal cancer at the age of 67. It’s a cruel cancer where doctors have to disconnect your esophagus from your stomach, which means you can longer eat or drink. So you literally starve to death over a few months until your body shuts down. I was at the hospital almost every single day and I cannot remember one single moment when my Dad looked sad or scared. He was always smiling, always joking and always squeezing my hand. Sometimes he couldn’t talk because of the tubes in his throat, but when he could, he would always tell me he loved me and he was proud of me. My Dad was supremely brave, but I wasn’t. I was scared, confused and really angry. But then my Dad would see the fear in my eyes, grab my hand and squeeze it and that would always calm me down. He reminded me to have faith in God and trust the path He puts us on. Near the end he said, “Son, I don’t think I am going to be able to “Walk this one off”. I think I’m going to need you to do it for me!”



 

My Dad before he got sick

 

 

I will never forget my Dad or his wonderful words of wisdom. And I will always be forever grateful that he taught me the meaning of courage and faith. He taught me that sometimes bad things will happen to good people, but that doesn’t mean we have to suffer or be sad. If we have courage and if we have faith in God, all we have to do is Walk it off!

 

                                                                         

                                     Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the decision

                                                     that something else is more important than fear.     

                                                 ~ Ambrose Redmoon