Mission from Mars

  In a conversation not long ago, I asked a man where he was from. He told me he was from Mars originally but had moved on. Having originally been from Venus and moved on myself, I was fascinated to hear about his journey.

  He told me Mars was a starting point in his Map Quest of life. Fatherhood was the vehicle that catapulted him off the planet, and it took him to a place he had never known existed. For the first time in his life, he fastened his seat belt. From the moment he beheld that extension of himself, he realized that Mars would probably not be a habitable place for him anymore. Mars offered selfish awareness, the supposed liberation of an unplanned future and a day-to-day existence that required little emotion and plenty of instant gratification.

  Fatherhood, from the moment this man was awarded the title, was a vehicle that burst forward at whiplash speed. He cruised through inspiring territories of awareness and being. To this very special man, “that moment” crowned him with responsibility. Winning was never again to be determined in innings or goals or yards. On Mars, winning was the epitome of every endeavor or challenge. Fatherhood changed all that. Now it wasn’t a matter of winning. Rather, it was the hope that when all was said and done, there would be no losers.

  So many of us will celebrate this Father’s Day with special thoughts and memories of the journey that these former Martians took us on. I will never “dine out” without giving thanks for my father’s continuous effort to make sure I knew my table manners. I will never start to walk up a set of stairs and not hear my father always saying…”There’s always something that needs to be carried up!” It may be why my father was never a big sports fan. He had gone on to other provocations. I proved to be enough of a challenge. On my wedding day, when he gave me away, I was never sure whose special day it really was. There wasn’t a trophy or tee-shirt or award of any kind that could trump that moment. He knew he never actually gave me away.

  I think perhaps a father’s love is quiet and not always as obvious as a Mother’s might be. A Father’s love is more of a reverberation that comes to you later on in the everyday happenings of your life. Father’s Day is a perfect time to not only remember who your Father was or is, but who you are on ordinary days because of him.

  I think that maybe the best tribute of all I could give my Dad is that through all the ups and downs of my life, I never felt like a loser. Game point!