When I Grow Up...I Wanna Be Like My Dad

Well, today I have the challenge of attempting to condense this past weekend into a short summary. I feel like I could write a book. I will hit the highlights.

My dad came to Kansas City for the first time since we visited together during my senior year of high school four years ago. It was just me and my dad. A walk around campus and a walk to Loose Park had us both ready for dinner. Salmon, potatoes, vegetables and garlic bread. Then we spent the rest of the evening watching March Madness.

Saturday we went down to the plaza for a cup of coffee and a stroll around. He told me in the fullest detail about how he and my mom had met. I had heard bits and pieces over the years, but I got the full story. Later, we went to the Rockhurst baseball game. Dad and son at a ball game on a Saturday afternoon. Doesn't get much better than that. Plus, Rockhurst pulled out a come-from-behind victory. Afterwards, Colleen met us for Mass and then we all went out to dinner together. I was really excited to have them meet and they got to know each other really well over dinner. I could tell who was doing most of the talking because both my dad and Colleen had tons of food leftover; I just got to sit back and watch. My dad shared stories about growing up, pulling pranks on his sister and he also shared with Colleen the story he had shared with me that morning about how he and my mom had met. Colleen talked about all of the things she is involved in and some about her parents and family - we didn't quite get around to the "Application to Date My Son."

The Red Letter event of the weekend took place at dinner on Sunday right before I took my dad to the airport. The wisdom-provoking question: "Was there ever a time that you and mom thought that it was going to be over?" After a couple of anecdotes of fights, both big and long-lasting, my dad said something that I will never forget. He said, "I will never leave your mom." Simple words, right. I couldn't hold back. I started crying. Afraid that he had shared too much, he began to apologize. I told him not to. I said that it was exactly what I needed to hear. The last time that he said that it had even crossed his mind was long before I even ever noticed that they fought. I simply responded letting him know that I couldn't be more proud to have him as my dad.

One of the plagues of our generation is fatherless homes. The absence of real men in our society is, in my opinion, the root of many of the injustices in our country and our world. God has blessed me with a father who, more through his actions than his words necessarily, has taught me more than he may even know about what it means to be a real man. Dad, what can I say? Thank you.