Becoming A Man Part I

I discovered that I didn't want to be a plumber when I was nine years old, in a crawl space with my dad while he was moonlighting on  a neighbors master bath "redo" in order to surprise my mom with a tennis bracelet for their anniversary.
I thought about many things on the cold, damp, California dirt, underneath that 1970's track home.
Aside from the obvious judgments; dirty finger nails, working on your back in dark nasty places, dealing with peoples SHIT... I knew that plumbing wasn't for me.
When my dad worked, I saw a sense of pride. Commitment. Art.
He worked with such a meticulous expertise.
I knew that even without the hanging safety lights and the blow torch, my dad would be able to fit a pipe with his eyes blindfolded.
As I watched my dad cut the pipe, and explain to me what he was doing as if it were perfectly logical, my mind wondered off in a thousand different directions.  I was panicked!  I didn't know how I was going to be able to tell my dad that I had no desire to go through all of this trouble for a girl!
I just remember looking up and saying aloud, "Dad, I don't think I want to be a plumber when I grow up."
And I'll never forget his reaction.  He chuckled and got a grin from ear to ear and said to me without skipping a beat, "Son, you can be whatever you want to be when you grow up."
I could hear the pride and relief in his voice.
It wasn't until I had a conversation with my dad as an adult for the first time, that I realized how much he sacrificed for me.  I don't think my dad wanted to be a plumber when he was nine either.  Somehow, he was able to put his dreams on hold in order to help mine come true.

I Love My Dad.

I found a new hero today.
It's not the first time I gained a new strength from him;
He has given me the best survival guide for life-
He gave me everything I needed.
He makes it look so easy!