Pop

I am grateful to have my father. Even more so I am lucky to have him. Recently I am truly realizing how lucky I am that he is alive. I don't talk about my dad much especially here on my blog. My dad and I haven't had the closest of relationships. As a matter of fact he hasn't been around for much of my pivotal years. I used to have so much anger toward him for that. In the past few years, probably because I am older now, I have let all of the anger and resentment go. My dad could have died about a million times and in many cases should not be alive, but he is. Here are the two times that scared me the most:

For most my life my dad worked for PG&E as a lineman. One rainy night my dad had to work on some power lines. The power wasn't shut off in the line. My dad was electrocuted and fell 30 some odd feet to the ground. His memory, amongst other things, was completely shot. He has told me he had to relearn everything. To this day he retells stories. I don't mind at all, I will gladly listen to them over and over. I am just amazed and thankful he is around to tell them.

A few years ago my dad broke his neck in six places during a race. We weren't speaking so I had no idea. I could have lost him and never been able to tell him how much I admire him. The doctor told him they didn't want to do anything to him because he was alive and he shouldn't be. You'd think that would stop my father from racing. No. He has a race coming up in March I get to watch. I wont even go into all the bones he has broken, ligaments torn, nerves damaged. Yet he still rides, still farms, still flies his little WWII plane and is still working for a power company (only not climbing many poles anymore).

My father is the most amazing human I know. I hope someday he will know how much I look up to him and love him.