The Admiral did not find me in a rocket and raise me. Nor did he launch me into space (though I strongly suspect the thought crossed his mind from time to time).
But like Jonathan Kent, The Admiral (with no small assist from the KareBear) did his best to instill in a young League some sort of moral compass. While I think he would have frowned upon my adoption of a cape and sky-blue tights an an outfit of choice, like Pa Kent from the movies and books, The Admiral's role as a father was a bit more involved than occasionally peering over the top of his newspaper or teaching us how to throw a baseball (which he did as well, with mixed results). We were lucky to have parents who saw our challenges as teaching opportunities, and who asked us to reach our own conclusions as we forged ahead.
I don't want to go on too long and get sappy and boring, and some of this is deeply personal. But I consider myself fortunate every day to have had the balance of parents that I could not have been luckier to have had, had I been flung across space to touch down in a field and be picked up by Glen Ford.
The Old Man is a good guy, and I can only hope to do him proud. So on Father's day, I salute thee, Admiral.
2 comments:
Good tribute! Glad you know how lucky you are. :)
The only correction I would like to make is to say that Mom and Dad did, in fact, find you in an alien spacecraft. It had one of those "baby on board" placards in the window.
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