My
father has always been my hero. Not because of his military service or
his numerous patents and contributions to science or his devotion to mission
trips and scheduling family vacations. It is because he has always been
the guiding force in my life -- and he does so with persistence and humility.
I have often been compared to my dad, both in appearance and demeanor. As a child I understood that to mean because he was quiet and analytic and I was studious and contemplative, we were different from my mom and younger sisters. Over the years though, I cherished the remarks as compliments, realizing that we are innately connected in our makeup. We find refuge in our thoughts, importance in choosing the right words, significance in expression and perception.
Throughout
school, my father pushed me to be my best, not in a patronizing way but much
like a coach would lead a team. And there was a team -- my family -- and
as the eldest he instilled in me an obligation to lead by example like he
always has. His patience, too, is unparalleled. When I struggled
with calculus, he set up shop at the dining room table, explaining and
re-explaining theorems and formulas until, out of frustration, I literally
cried. I knew that he was aware of the answers but would wait for me to
work them out myself. After we went through this exercise late into the
night and he felt I'd had enough, he'd stay up long after I went to bed to
write the problems out, step by step, neatly onto a page so I would understand
how he'd completed them. Then he would wait for me in the morning before
heading to work to brief me on his conclusions until I showed a flicker of
understanding. This used to make me feel like he was dragging me along,
but now I think he saw something in me that I clearly didn't. And he was
really dragging that part of me to the surface, the part where I got it, the
part that gave me confidence.
In
college, he single-handedly helped me pass organic chemistry, serving as a
private tutor despite his busy schedule. Even after I decided to change
majors halfway through my program, he didn't react with an air of
disappointment or berate me for wasting time or money. Instead, he helped
me find a track more suited to my skill sets which allowed me to shine. I
learned then, that even as an incorrigible planner, it's okay to step back and revise once in awhile.
One
time, out of curiosity, I asked my dad if he had ever wished for a son.
Without missing a beat, he responded, "I have everything I
need."
To a man who has always understood what I've needed and given
it selflessly – Happy Father's Day.
