Man of the House

As long as I can remember my dad has been my hero and role model of choice. I have heard so often from my mother and aunts, “you are just like your father.” Every time I hear this it makes me proud. My dad has worked hard his entire life to make sure that my mom, brother, and I were happy and were provided for. I remember that when my brother and I were little my dad worked on a farm, he would come in late at night covered in dirt and extremely tired. He still had taken the time to play games with my brother and me and help my mother with the chores.

As a child I was always aware that I wanted to pursue a career in the medical field. I have always wanted to help people just like my father has. When he would come in from farming I would bring out my toy medical bag and “fix” all of his bruises and cuts. My dad would sit there and entertain me by allowing me to wash out his cuts and bandage them. It made me upset when he would fall asleep while I was being his doctor. I thought he was being mean and did not really want to participate in my “doctor visit.”

When I was in the fifth grade my dad’s father was diagnosed with cancer. This is the first time I remember actually knowing someone affected by the ugly “C” word that now seems to everywhere. I’m sure other family members had been affected by this disease but this is the first time I remember it in my family. I had no idea what it meant. I thought my grandpa was just sick and that of course the doctors would fix him. My grandpa was strong. Bigger than life to me, his lap was big enough to hold not only me but my brother as well as our two cousins all at the same time. I had never seen my dad so worried. To him, his dad was exactly like mine, his hero.

I’m sure while growing up he heard that he was just like grandpa. My parents have always lived very close to their parents. Although neither are only children they took it upon themselves to be the children that their parents called in any situation. This affected where they lived. They wanted to be close enough that they could always be able to get to either grandparent houses. On the night my grandpa Thompson died my dad was there for him. It was only at his funeral that I have ever seen my dad cry. It was only for a minute and one single tear. When I looked at him he wiped it away and gave me a hug and a smile.

My dad has always been the person his friends call when they need something done cheap. My grandpa passed the trait on that he would do anything for you and takes whatever payment you could give him. If that meant working for free in some cases he would do it and so does my dad. He takes on so many projects in his “dream garage.” In many cases my dad works for nothing. There is an older gentleman who lives up the road from my parents. My dad stops in at least once a month to make sure that he is okay and that all of his equipment is running properly. This man was a friend of my grandpa and my dad is continuously working on his tractors and bulldozers for free. Recently he has even been supplying the parts to fix the equipment.

These actions that my father has taken have made him very respectable to the older populations that live around my parents. He has always given them respect and they return the favor. I hope to also have this same influence with the populations that live around me. I hope to lead a life like my father and gain the respect of all individuals I am associated with.