Did Your Parents Share Their Dreams?
Did they share them with their boomer babies or implant them for the road ahead?
You might wonder ‘if I live their dreams, does that mean not living mine?’
It even sounds like a therapy question.
You’ll never measure up either way. Boomer’s parents hoed a tough row.
That’s the lesson to learn. No matter how hard things get, they’re still not as hard as our parents had it.
For example, my Dad went from backwoods farm boy to corporate representative in two giant steps.
- The Korean War and,
- College, the first in his family to graduate.
He got no daddy-credit for either one. The last one is tough. Grandpa ignored graduation. His theory was anyone going to school past eighth grade was just afraid to work.
My guess is Grandpa got to eighth grade in a logging-camp school and started setting chokers the next day. Somewhere between then and my Dad joining the Marines Grandpa broke his back in the woods, couldn’t get into WWII, and learned how to make distilled refreshments.
The dream Grandpa implanted in my Dad involved chainsaws and bootlegging?
My old man knew his way around a chainsaw like nobody’s business, but he wore a jacket and tie for his regular work. He didn’t drive thunder road.
Instead he got married and moved his dream to another small town and another dream, North Bend, Oregon. This time he shared his dream.
He’d quit the business world and get his school teacher card when he turned forty. He’d teach high school and coach.
One son did just that.
He said he’d quit smoking.
Do dads, your dad, my dad, all dad’s around the world, say things just to keep ideas bouncing around?
Would my dad do well in the classroom?
As well as any other former Marine drill instructor who wore spit-shined shoes with inch and a half soles.
In other words, he would have been just what every district needed and I would have been THAT teacher’s kid.
Dear Dad, it would have been an honor to share the road.