My dad’s home life, when he was growing up, wasn’t the best. His dad went thru life essentially scared to try to do anything different or new. Scared to change jobs, scared that whatever he did would come crashing down around him. And some people, when they are scared, react by becoming rigid personalities.
Such was my grandfather. And he was afraid for his only son as much as for himself. And so he always nagged my father to get a job, any job, and cling to it for dear life - not because it was a good or enjoyable job, but because he was scared.
And so, my father got a job at the age of fifteen cleaning kennels for a local veterinarian. And decided, by God, that he could do something more with himself. And so he (my dad) decided to become a veterinarian.
No encouragement from my grandfather. No financial support (of course) for college or vet school. Just dire warnings of what it would be like when he couldn’t feed himself or find a job.
Nonetheless, my dad persevered. And got himself married at the age of nineteen, and he and my mom got thru college and vet school. And my dad went back to the veterinarian who hired him as a kennel boy, and got himself a job as a veterinarian.
And it worked out. First as an employee, then later as partners when they built the new practice, my dad did the surgery, Dr. Frank did the business end, and they both saw patients.
And the practice blossomed and grew. And they both became wealthy men, and Dr. Frank finally retired, when his wife was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
And yesterday, he died. And when my dad called me to tell me the news, he said, “We worked together for nearly forty years, on nothing more than a handshake.” And for only the second time in my life, I heard tears in my father’s voice.
Nothing dramatic here, I guess. Just two guys who founded a small business, and made a success of it. Just two guys, who took care of their families, and worked every day, and contributed to their churches, and lived their lives the best way they knew how. Just two guys.
But now, there’s only one.
Regards,
Shodan