“Dads are most ordinary men turned by love into heroes, adventurers, story-tellers, and singers of song.” –Pam Brown
Remember secret music tracks at the end of a CD? With vinyl we had backwards masking and b-sides, with CDs we has had secret tracks. Usually when the final track ended that was it, the CD would end or start over, but sometimes it didn’t stop, it just kept playing. There was silence, dead space and then, all of a sudden it started; that secret track, that bonus song or out take. Maybe it was a funny song, a live version, a demo or maybe it was just the band goofing around, talking. No matter, what it was it felt like a bonus.
So what does this bonus track stuff have to do with this series? This is part is the bonus track so to speak. Why does it fit with this series? Because, one thing my dad loved was laughter!
Being his friend, being his son, for most was enough. But those who got to laugh with him that was a special bonus!
My dad was funny and loved to laugh and joke. He was silly, goofy, maybe even inappropriate at times, but he was funny, and his laughter was contagious.
To my friends growing up he was Captain Caca…
To his friends when I was growing up he was Baba Rum Dum…
Two silly characters that generated hours of laughter.
He often told me things like, “don’t take yourself so seriously,” “you need to lighten up kiddo,” “remember to laugh,” and my favorite, “laughter is the best medicine.”
What I would give to have another laugh with him, or to hear him and my Uncle Gary from my bedroom down the hall, laughing hysterically at the kitchen table. About what I have no idea, but it was truly healing. And just hearing it made me want to laugh.
Maybe this is the greatest lesson I learned from my dad. Because what kind of a life is a life without laughter? A life without jokes, smiles, or giggle-snorting? Without pains in your gut and sides from extreme laughing? What is compassion, gratitude, or service without a smile? What does it all mean or even matter if there is no laughter, no fun, no tears of joy?
So, maybe that is the key because it takes quite a person, after all, to help a person who hurts deeply, learn to smile again. To help a person who suffers genuinely laugh. To make a real difference in someone’s life.
He did that for me. He did many things for me. I hope to honor him the best I can and pass it on. But to pick the most important lesson is difficult and I have a lot of life yet to live. Maybe time will tell, but I know for now…
He was the dad I had
Although it’s sad
I couldn’t be more glad
So, I thank you dad
Laugh loud and smile often…
My cheesy little poem to close.
Talk Soon,
Kevin W @LEAP272
Owner-Operator
You have to leap if you want to live
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