Dad, Superman, and me

I saw it happen. Almost in slow motion.

My brother’s and my Dad were playing football in the street for some reason.

The pass was a seemingly perfect spiral and my Dad was in the air making the perfect diving catch.

With the broken arm, I knew then my Dad was not Superman.

Growing up I thought my Dad was a super man. He couldn’t fly or pick up large objects without effort, but he always had an answer for all my silly questions. Sometimes he probably made stuff up….

Anyway, he also could fix almost anything. I can only recall a few times he had to call someone else for their expertise.

My Dad has remodelled every room in the house that I grew up in. He even took over the garage with his workshop.

Having been on the inside track, I also saw the not so super things my Dad did. If my siblings were honest, I don’t think they would say he was the world's greatest Dad, but I would argue he was the best Dad I ever had. He did what he thought was best and that is about all anyone can do.

I have heard a bunch of stories about a successful father training a son to take over the family business. I never had that opportunity.

I’m pretty sure my Dad did not go to work every day because he enjoyed his job or that he was ambitious to climb that corporate ladder or chase prestige. He dutifully went to work to support us kids.

When I commuted with him to the University of Utah, he would listen to slow tempoed, soothing music because he was in no hurry to get to work. However, on the ride home the tempo was quite faster.

A lot of movie or story plots revolve around avenging a father’s death. I almost find it rather hilarious.

My Dad doesn’t seem to be anybody’s target, so if he got swept up in some awful tragedy it would be sad. I just don’t see myself spending the rest of my life or however long looking for revenge.

Superman or not, he was and still is the greatest Dad I ever had. I might trade him for the Wolverine though. :)