The Dreamer

I imagine that everyone has a person in his/her life who had lofty dreams.  That person who saw the life that they wanted to live and  related that dream and the plans to get there, often.  Sure, we all dream, but this person's dream is grandiose to the point of unattainable.  Yet, this person never gives up on what would be the life that would be the ideal one for them.

In my life, that was my father.  Now understand, my father worked hard all of his life.  He went to his job every day.  Seldom did he take days off, and when he did, he was still called to come back in more often than not.  He realized that there was a wife and three kids who depended on him.  From the time that he was a salesman for Pittsburgh Paints, through to the sales trips for Shell Oil, he missed time with his family, but he supported them.

His dream didn't really start until he made the decision that he needed to settle down with his family to one town and a job that didn't have him on the road.  That took him to Fort Wayne where Shell Oil set him up as a manager of a gas station.  Then for over 20 years that was what he did.  What amazed me during that time was how many people knew my dad.  They weren't just his customers; they were his friends.

That was his job, until they took it away from him.  You see, he made his money by working on cars.  Sure, he sold gas, but no gas station manager really depends on that for a living, even today.  He had developed a large clientele who depended on him to work on their cars.  He employed men who could help him do that.  Marathon, whom he had moved to after five years with Shell, decided that his gas station should be a convenience station. He would have to let all of his workers go. Their offer for him to stay was ridiculous.

From that point on, he sold cars for different dealerships in town, managed a dealership's repair shop, and eventually worked for the auto auction driving cars from all over the Midwest to the auction.  There was even a time that he was on unemployment.  Through all of this, he persevered because his dream was still alive.

I thought that his dream was his work.  From the way he talked about the lottery (which he played long before Indiana had one) to his dreams of a family compound, I thought his dream was to be rich.  I guess I wasn't really listening.   None of that was his dream.

I have two brothers and a sister.  We are all college educated.  We all have families that now include grandchildren.  Ann worked in a bank even when she was in college.  She retired recently after a successful career in banking.  She also has a daughter, two sons, and six grandchildren.  The oldest of my two brothers, Doug as an architect is well known for his work on designing hospitals and was employed for years with Clarion in Indianapolis.  He has a daughter, two boys, and two grandchildren.  Finally, my youngest brother Jack is a lawyer who aspires to become a state representative in the upcoming election.  He has two children, two step-children, and four grandchildren.

If you have been reading this blog, you know that I have two children and three grandchildren.  I have recently retired from education where I was a teacher, assistant principal, principal, and instructional coach.  I relate all of this family information because I finally analyzed what Dad's dream really was.

Dad never graduated from college.  He tried a few times at Manchester and Taylor.  Even though it didn't fit for him, he was trying to live out his father's dream.  Grandpa was a minister; Dad was his oldest son.  Often, in terms that skirted the issue, my father would lament that he failed his father.

I am not going to speak for my siblings, but I am sure that they will agree.  In a way I knew that as I lived out my dreams, I was helping him with his.  When I got my head coaching job at North, he called the newspapers to let them know, even though he got me in trouble for it.  When I transitioned into assistant principal, he beamed his happiness just before he wondered when I would be a principal.  He would call and tell me where there were schools that needed a principal like me.  When I was a principal, his health was failing, but that day that I retired, he was there for the party even though I know that he was not well.

It has never made sense to me, but Dad loved airports.  He could sit there forever watching the planes land and take off.  I thought that was because he wanted to go to the places where the planes were going.  That might be true, but I know for sure that my father's dreams came true.  And I know that I helped him with that.

My dream is the same as his.  I have a family that I love dearly, and my dream is that they have the lives that they want.  As a teacher, my dream also includes each and every student who has crossed my path.  Happy Father's Day every day to all of the fathers who read this and especially the original dreamer, my Dad.