Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved. Character is like a tree and reputation like a shadow. The shadow is what we think of it; the tree is the real thing.
The above quote is completely true. What builds character? It's built through hard times, heartache, and the utter harshness of reality. When does childhood end and adulthood begin? For me, it was the day I realized that my dad wasn't superman. It was the day I realized that everything isn't all rainbows and unicorns. It was the day I realized he was going to die.
I didn't plan on blogging about this...like everyone else on social media, I planned on posting a pic of my dad with the words "Happy Father's Day". But there has been a memory I've carried around for quite sometime, and I feel the need to share it. So here goes.
A couple nights before my dad passed away, I remember waking up from the sound of him trying to get up from the recliner he was sleeping in. My mom, brother, and I were all camped out on the floor next to him. I laid there, eyes closed, but wide awake listening to him struggling to stand up. My mom quickly went over to him and asked what he wanted.
"I want to lay down next to my baby girl." he said in a frail voice. A voice that had been weakened by the cancer which had eaten away at his body.
"John Henry, you can't lay down on the floor," my mom said. "Try to get some rest."
After a long pause I heard the most pitiful sounding response pour from his mouth. "Ok."
The sound of the way he said it still echoes in my mind. Sometimes I can't remember the sound of his voice when he was healthy, but the sound of him saying "Ok" is a vivid memory, one that's stuck on repeat.
I opened my eyes and looked slightly up. I saw him laying back in his recliner, eyes closed, and mouth open as he fought for each breath he took. I was a scared 15 year old. Scared of death. Scared to show emotion. What I regret most though was the fact that I was scared to talk. I wish I had said something, anything.
All I could do was reach over and place my hand on his foot. As I held his foot in my hand I kept wondering if he knew it was me holding it. I closed my eyes as tears ran silently down my young face. I held his foot for hours, until I finally fell asleep.
Deep down I know he had no idea I had his foot in my hand all night. It had already gotten to the point where his mind wasn't capable of being present. There were brief moments here and there where he knew who he was, who I was....but those moments lasted only a few seconds.
For years I have prayed to God to do me a favor, to let my dad know that I cared. That I heard him that night trying to lay down next to me and hug me. And for God to tell my dad that it was me holding his foot in my hand, because I couldn't bring myself to say anything.
That moment taught me a very important lesson. Don't be afraid to tell people you love them. Don't miss an opportunity to speak what's on your mind.
Experiencing what I did, witnessing what I did, built character within me. I see it as a gift given to me from my dad and from God.
