My Dad, born on April 2, 1920, used to tell us that we should Just do the work, and I will do the thinking. That of course, was when we would be doing something other than the way we were told to do it. But I thought didnt get very far, if we didnt see the end goal, didnt see the reason behind what we were doing. It was usually never said in anger, maybe a little frustration, more often in determined humor---but it effectively put an end to any disagreement on how a job should be done. In our house, my dad was the boss-----for us to see his truck pull off the highway and head down the hill on his way home to our house was enough to send us all running to our neglected jobs. Granted, a little out of fear of his anger--but more so out of the dread of his disapproval. Now, years later, doing my own thinking, my own work I find myself still listening for the sound of his truck up on the highway. Still slip out of the house to do some fast dancing so it looks like I have been working, doing my job, tending to business. The thing is, my Dad did the thinking while I was young, managing to stuff my head with his thought---leaving me with the realization that we cannot escape, but carry the skills, the practice, the knowledge we learned from our parents through our remaining life. At some point, we also realize we were our parents work. Raising us, their job. No wonder we spend a lifetime, working for their approval. Happy Birthday Dad. I am listening.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 15:50:37 +0000
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