8:58 PM
David
My dad is one of the hardest workers on Earth. As a kid, he was raised with the mentality they don't teach now-a-days. The workers mentality. Now me, I'm a big guy. Basically 6 feet tall, and can lift easily a hundred pounds. Keep in mind, I'm only sixteen years old. My dad? Not at all the same story. After he finally reached his full height, around his mid twenty's, he got to be around 5' 10". And never did he weigh any more than he could lift... ie: He's pretty skinny.
At a young age, my father worked at the family car lot and at at his father's gas station. After he graduated from high school at the age of eighteen, he was drafted into Vietnam. Luckily enough, he never actually served -- but was sent home with high praise from his country's armed forces. After he got back home, back to the family business it was. He started his own towing company/part store, and has ran it now for the better part of thirty years. My dad is a true man's man, and can do absolutely anything he puts his mind to. Never has he had any addictions, either. Never smoked, never drank, and most importantly -- never did drugs. You know many kids who can say that of their parents?
I'm proud of my father, and happy to call him 'dad'. And today, I could see it in his eyes -- he was proud of me. I showed him some of my drawings, and he looked in amazement. He said they looked very good, praise my dad hardly ever gives -- trust me, and then made mention about the different lines I'd leave when I drew a face. Because I didn't want him to think I just drew lines on the face for the heck of it, I decided to show him just what ALL those lines meant. He stood back and watched me as I drew a face to further explain what I was talking about. And he simply stood back, crosses his arms, and watched. I never thought much of it at the time, but in hindsight -- he was watching me do something I loved doing. And he knew it. He just simply watched, and listened to me explain why I drew things the way I did. My younger brother then walked in at the time, and exclaimed I drew things to complicated. He drew a simple little face, as cute as it was, and left the room. My dad then looked at it, and simply said, "His is nice, but yours has the proper proportions and everything."
That's all he needed to say. I know my drawings aren't as good as I'd like them to be, not yet at least... Be knowing he knows just how much work I put into all my drawings, and the fact that he understands why I do all the antics (as strange as they are at times) I do -- well, that made it all worth while. All the crappy drawings I ended up throwing away, everything. To simply know my dad likes my drawings, it makes it all worth while.
At a young age, my father worked at the family car lot and at at his father's gas station. After he graduated from high school at the age of eighteen, he was drafted into Vietnam. Luckily enough, he never actually served -- but was sent home with high praise from his country's armed forces. After he got back home, back to the family business it was. He started his own towing company/part store, and has ran it now for the better part of thirty years. My dad is a true man's man, and can do absolutely anything he puts his mind to. Never has he had any addictions, either. Never smoked, never drank, and most importantly -- never did drugs. You know many kids who can say that of their parents?
I'm proud of my father, and happy to call him 'dad'. And today, I could see it in his eyes -- he was proud of me. I showed him some of my drawings, and he looked in amazement. He said they looked very good, praise my dad hardly ever gives -- trust me, and then made mention about the different lines I'd leave when I drew a face. Because I didn't want him to think I just drew lines on the face for the heck of it, I decided to show him just what ALL those lines meant. He stood back and watched me as I drew a face to further explain what I was talking about. And he simply stood back, crosses his arms, and watched. I never thought much of it at the time, but in hindsight -- he was watching me do something I loved doing. And he knew it. He just simply watched, and listened to me explain why I drew things the way I did. My younger brother then walked in at the time, and exclaimed I drew things to complicated. He drew a simple little face, as cute as it was, and left the room. My dad then looked at it, and simply said, "His is nice, but yours has the proper proportions and everything."
That's all he needed to say. I know my drawings aren't as good as I'd like them to be, not yet at least... Be knowing he knows just how much work I put into all my drawings, and the fact that he understands why I do all the antics (as strange as they are at times) I do -- well, that made it all worth while. All the crappy drawings I ended up throwing away, everything. To simply know my dad likes my drawings, it makes it all worth while.
