It has been said that, “Hind sight is twenty – twenty vision.” It seems that this axiom becomes clearer as we grow older and seemly more wiser. When I think back to the days of my youth when I was of eleven years longevity, I remember a mountain of a man with the strength of steel, yet gentile whom also possessed a hardy belly laugh equal to any Santa. This hero of my youth. This teacher of many wise things, one day before my eyes, disappeared.

That day in history was a time of confusion. Where is Dad? Why isn't Dad home? What is divorce? How could an eleven year old understand? A tragedy happened with in our castle. Royalty was about to be split. The King was to be dethroned and the Queen was to take in a new Knight. Life was to change forever and I, the oldest of the heirs, understood none of it.

Much water has passed under the bridge since the upheaval of our lives. I had often stopped to reflect upon the changes that had accrued and had wondered what if this tragedy never came to pass? And just like the sun burning off the fog in a great valley, I discovered that it does not matter. What is gone, is gone. What I may have missed, I will never know. I would never known what this King of Kings, this Mountain of a Man, this hero, could have been to my life. He just disappeared, much in the same way as daylight into night. For you see, that was the punishment of divorce.

Would my life have been any different had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad? I believe that, if my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, I would have learned to be a better fisherman. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, I would have spent more time in the Scouts. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, We may not have moved from home to home has often. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, I may have been a carpenter. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, I may have enlisted in the Army. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, I may have returned from Viet Nam in a body bag.

Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, I may not have known the woman of my life, my wife. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, I would not have known my children. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, he would have known his grandchildren. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, he would have known my sisters. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, he would have known his son. Had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad, I would not have written this essay.

Because hind sight is clearer then my eyesight, I must be thankful that my Dad was a dead beat Dad. For had he not been, I may not have experienced the joys that have come to my life. Such as, love, family and career. The life I have come to enjoy would not be the same as I know it today. I would not even be the same person that I am today, had my Dad not been a dead beat Dad. All that was there and what could have been , is gone. Because my Dad was a dead beat Dad.

Even though I want to remember him as he was when I was a youngster. A mountain of a man with the strength of steel, yet gentile whom also possessed a hardy belly laugh equal to any Santa. This image too is disappearing. Much in the same way as he has. So Dad, I have to say, “Thank You, for being a dead beat Dad.” Because of your efforts and what it has taught me, I have come to learn that the important things of life were given to me by you; not being there.

So concludes my ‘Memorial to a Dead Beat Dad.’
 
 

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