To be or not to be... Dad

Today, was/is Sunday.  The missus and I slept as long as the kids would let us, got up, and went to church.  I lovingly clutched my stainless steel coffee cup, read my Greek New Testament, and tried to listen to the sermon throughout the service.  

As we were leaving the Big House (as I like to think of it), I realized that it was ridiculously nice outside.  Blue sky, warm, western Colorado...  For those cold souls who haven't seen it, I just don't have words.  

We got home and had a little lunch, and an uncomfortable thought began to occur to me.  I am a part-time teacher at that private school my kids attend, and I am behind on getting all my grading done.  However, this is one of those days that a good dad would probably find some kind of outdoor activity to partake of with his family.  Lo, as Frost saw the two roads diverging before him, so was I... 

I have a long history of replacing the best with the good and getting wrapped up in anything but being a dad.  I have had good jobs full of responsibility, challenging classes at college, ministries, etc...  All seem to cry out with great needs or great challenges...  All good things, but not best...  

Responsibility...  the disapproval of my unrelenting students...  the pressure...  I should be grading stuff... 

But... the sun is shining.  The kids haven't seen much of the sick dad-guy this last week...  Growing up fast... 

We went to the park.  Nononono, We WALKED to the park.  And the kids climbed some trees...  It was cool.

Therapy... and fathering?

This weekend, I have getting my feet back under me after a week of illness.  It has been a pretty miserable week, let me tell you! 

So on Saturday, the family patriarch (Big Papa) came to me and informed me that a small landslide had blocked a steep, narrow road which had been pioneered up a mountain several years ago on his property.  He had discovered it while out riding his ATV.  He asked me if I might be interested in using a piece of equipment to go clear this off for him.

Being a man of insight and wisdom, he knows that this is all the invitation that I need to go operate equipment.  Of course, I said yes.  Shortly after, I was on a hillside operating a Cat 430E backhoe, assaulting a pile of mud and debris.  The stuff was sloppy.  The road was treacherous as a result of ice.  The mud on top of the ice didn't help.  My young son was sitting on my lap.  It was several hours well spent.  

Some men get crazy about hunting, or fishing, or a small block Chevy...  For me, it's the love of the yellow iron.  It always has been.  The nostalgia gets pretty thick as I remember sitting on my own father's lap as he operated a John Deere Grader back in Northern Minnesota.  Dad was a pretty amazing operator, and I got to go share in that with him.  

Will my boy remember this weekend and those couple hours with me?  I dunno.  Knowing how bright he is, and how well I remember things from that age; probably.  Even if he doesn't, I will.  It will mean something to me as I recollect that I tried to share these things with him; that I tried to share some of my life and joys with him.  If there is one great truth that I have been introduced to it is this: fathers teach their sons what they know (whether they realize it or not).  

At one point, I let the little guy take the sticks and throw some dirt around.  He did me proud with his abilities... He is digging away and declares rather precociously "Dad, this is one of the coolest days of my life, ever."  

Yeah, I think that he will probably remember.