One experience with Dad that often comes to mind, was a lesson of patience and determination as well as unparalleled athleticism.
I must have been about 7 years old and we were living in Vermont at the time. As I recall, Dad had helped out a friend (I think his name was Bill Fisk?) bail hay and in return, the man had given him 3 piglets...yes this is a story about the 3 little pigs. Mr. "Fisk" was friendly to all, but I remember one physical feature in particular, he was missing a thumb. Dad told me he lost his thumb during a fall in which he was suspended by his thumb alone. Every time I saw Mr. Fisk, I always had the image in my mind of him hanging by his thumb until it gave way. To this day, I've always been careful with my thumbs.
Upon arriving at our home we took the piglets down the hill behind our house to a recently built pig pen. After releasing the piglets into the pen we soon realized that they were small enough to squeeze through the horizontal rails and escape. I don't recall how long it took to catch them, but it must have taken a great deal of time and effort because Dad's relief was apparent when the piglets were finally locked up in the chicken coop, their temporary housing until the pen could be secured.
Soon after beginning work on the pen (Dad always let me work with him on projects), I became curious about the status of the piglets. I made my way up the hill past our house to where the chicken coop sat like a small barn. There was no way to see in without opening the large wooden door. I slowly opened the door and immediately felt the 3 piglets squirm past my legs and escape to freedom. My heart sank because I knew first hand how hard it was to catch piglets on the lamb. When I told Dad, he wasn't mad, but I could see that his heart had sunk as well. We began the search in the wooded area near our house. After a lengthy time we were able to capture 2 of the 3 piglets and place them in a potato or gunny-sack-like bag. I remember how the contours of the sack rapidly changed shape as the piglets squirmed about.
The 3rd piglet remained elusive. The search was exhausting and with time I felt that I had been responsible for losing the piglet for good. As we walked through the woods along a dirt trail under the shade of large maple trees near our home, suddenly we spotted the last piglet scampering along a dirt trail that would eventually intersect with our trail. Dad's face intensified and his pace accelerated. I tried to keep up as I watched from behind one of the greatest moments in the history of sports! Sensing Dad's presence, the piglet darted forward. Without hesitation and with maximum determination Dad's trajectory turned airborne and parallel to the ground as he dove with arms outstretched and caught the hind leg of the piglet in his grasp. As the dust from Dad's belly-first dive settled to the ground, I stood with astonishment. Dad's "game-saving-catch" was the equivalent of a short stop diving to field a sharply hit ball up the middle of the infield that would determine the outcome of the world series. Wonder soon gave way to excitement! I had witnessed my Dad perform the most amazing feat right before my eyes!! I could tell that Dad was tired as we walked back to the house, but I had new life.
As I ponder this experience, I'm reminded of several truths. For one thing, piglet legs don't disarticulate as easily as thumbs, but more importantly, my Dad is a "Super Hero". Whatever life's challenges have come, my Dad has persevered and stood as a giant. Dad's unwavering faith, spirituality, love for Mom, love for family, love for neighbors, integrity, cheerfulness, and work ethic are the fabric of who he is and I am honored and grateful to be his son.
Jason
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