The story of my life is, like most, rather multifaceted. So it's difficult to adequately give credit everywhere that it's due. And like most, here are many influential people in my life--my mother undoubtedly in the lead. But as Father's Day approached this year, it got me to thinking. In my life, as a child of this Earth, what has "Father" meant to me in my life? The simplest version is I lost a good Father and later I gained a good Father. The other version that has stuck in my head since I began considering it, is that I have had the amazing fortune of knowing and loving three very significant, very important Father's of mine. Their stories are all novel-worthy to me, but I'm operating within the parameters of what this blog will allow...and so it goes. Here is my ode.
My Father, William Jay Barnes
From the time I was born until a little after the age of twelve, I had a wonderful father who nurtured my imagination and prodded my intellect (sometimes to a fault). He guided me and taught me during all those strange, wild and new years of life. I couldn't imagine having a better Father during those years. He gave me knowledge to get through all the fantastic complexities of young life and a giant lot of what I would learn to appreciate and use throughout my entire life.
My Papa, Louis Herman Oalmann
What a guy. During my fantasy childhood, through tragedy, headlong into the vicious confusion of teenagedom and all the way through college. He taught me and he showed me the meaning of hard work, bravery, perseverance (and stubbornness), gentleness, commitment to family, Cajun food and the uncommon grace of unconditional love.
My current Dad, Wayne Hubert Matthews
Just as the years when the tricky stuff of learning to be a successful adult began to seep in, then flood, then take over, Mom met and later married Wayne. Years after my father passed away I would think to myself that one thing I would miss out on the most was having the opportunity to sit at the dinner table and carry on an adult conversation with my Father. Wrestling faith, politics, finance and social issues--and in turn becoming a stronger individual. I haven't missed out on that at all. Wayne and I have enjoyed evening conversations that last well into the morning hours. He taught me about good bourbon and scotch (and the proper way to enjoy them). He bought me my first Apple laptop when I was a senior in college. He serves as a sounding board when I have big decisions to make and empathizes with his own experiences when I tell him about my mistakes. He takes interest in my writing and talks to me about it. He is sensitive to and embraces the history of my family. He cried when our family cat, Plato, passed away--and drove mom (and the cat--lovingly swaddled and kept on ice) to South Carolina for a proper funeral and champagne toast. He walked me down the aisle when I was married and stood as my brothers Best Man when he was married a few months later. He has even surprisingly begun entertaining the notion of having grandchildren around someday (and no longer only refers to such hypothetical little creatures as noisy destructive miniature human nuisances). He knows my deepest dreams and my darkest secrets. He adores my mother, my brother and me.
Father's Day means this to me--my fathers passed on and instilled in me how to live life--and I'm an incredibly fortunate and grateful child. Happy Father's Day to all the good Dad's out there. And to those with us in spirit.
