by Kari Trail

Created on: July 08, 2008

As I look back now and see throughout history what my father has done for me, I wonder... Do you ever really know a person? Have I ever truly KNOWN my father? As a little girl I would look up and see him as a superhero. He was my Superman, the strongest, bravest, most courageous man on the planet. My father was my everything. He was the best role model that any child could have ever dreamed of having. And best of all, he has been my inspiration on how to raise my own children. I want them to look up to me the way that I looked up to him.

Now that I am older though, I see him somewhat differently. My daddy will always be my hero. But for the first time in my life, I see him as a PERSON! Pathetic huh? I knew he was a person but I saw him first and foremost as my daddy. I missed our family reunion this year but everyone is always talking about THE LEGEND. Apparently, this legend... is my DAD! Amazing. I knew that my father was in the army but I didn't know what he did exactly. So, I sat down with him one day and led him down memory lane a bit. I was astounded at some of the stories that he told me. Spy missions, gunshots fired left and right, being out in the field, and doing this in such a calm and collected manner that even his superiors were impressed. I have looked at medals that he received, placards made by friends when he left the army, and numerous pictures! My father made me believe that there is a reason to stand up and fight. That America itself was just as beautiful as our forefathers had once seen it. Sometimes, I wonder if he misses it. I think I can hear a hint of longing in his voice when he tells some stories but I don't think I will ever find the courage to ask him. In turn, somehow, this conversation led us to the topic of love.
Finding love, holding on to love, and making it work. I asked him about my mother. Did you truly love her? And of course, the answer was yes. All my childhood memories and beliefs on love stemmed from the way I remembered them in my early years. I rarely remember them leaving each other without a kiss and a long embrace. They always smiled at each other, hugged each other, kissed each other. I don't remember ever hearing them fight until the divorce. Then, it was sudden and quick. It seemed like one day we were a happy family and the next we were over. I saw it then as a silly fight gone wrong. I knew my mother had been unfaithful but I had hoped with that childish hope that she and dad would work it out. That somehow, they could get past this. Every child wishes that. Now, I see it as my father getting his heart broken. I can see the pain in his eyes sometimes when he reminisces about it. Sometimes, I wonder if the heart will ever heal. My strong, courageous, superhero has never loved again. He poured his heart and soul into his children and grandchildren... but never again has he loved. I hope that one day, I will be as strong as him. I hope that someday, I will have the strength, willpower, and ability to not get hurt. Pain from love can be unbearable. I know, for I too, have been a victim......

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