An Introduction and Happy Father's Day

Hello, Steemians! I am so excited to be a part of this community. My name is Susan and I am an American living in Mexico. I am new to both crypto-currencies and blogging, so bear with me....I'll get up a photo up as soon as I can. I am an ND (naturopathic doctor), who has also worked extensively and professionally with animals--I hope to share from both of these worlds with you.

I had already written my introduceyourself post, but had set it aside without knowing quite why. And then this morning, I was thinking about my dad, naturally enough, when it hit me hard (I think because I had just written the other introduction), just how much of who I am I owe to him. So I wanted to share this--to share him--with all of you. And I want all you dads out there to realize how much the little things mean to your children when they are grown....it's the little things, the moments of teaching and of undeserved patience that I cherish the most.

My dad was born and raised in San Francisco, the only son of a San Francisco fire-fighter. Family vacations were mostly spent camping in the Santa Cruz mountains. My grandfather loved animals and he passed that love down to my father (who passed it down to me). World War 2 broke out and my dad lied about his age in order to enlist when he was 17 years old. He became an Army Ranger. Dropped behind enemy lines multiple times, captured three times, escaped three times and helped liberate a major concentration camp, he came home with a purple heart, a bronze star and a lot of difficult memories.

He got his BA in Psychology, but I was born before he could finish his graduate work. He was a man before his time. Now a father, he wanted to homestead, raise organic food and home school me. My mother was NOT on board with this plan and he never realized that dream. But what a father! He was patient, understanding and supportive--especially when I was sure I didn't deserve it.

My mother couldn't swim and he was afraid I might drown, so he taught me to swim as soon as I learned to walk--too early to even remember it.

My memories of him are like snap-shots:

I'm 3: My uncle's vacation cabin. There is a bull (Santa Claus) in a pen on the neighbor's property. He's showing me how to feed the bull grass through the fence and teaching me never, ever to run when around a bull.

I'm 4: At the beach. Reminders to always face the water. Always watch the waves. Some waves are bigger than others.

I'm 5: my parents are arguing. My mother wants my tonsils taken out and my father saying "No, they're important for her health".

I'm 6: He comes to my room and gets me up, takes me to the door to the garage and cracks it open. The garage is closed, but a mother bird with a nest in the garage is teaching her chicks to fly in a big circle. It was magical. Then one of the fledglings zips through the opening, flying through the house and down the hall to land on the headboard of my parents bed (with my mother still sleeping in it). He's laughing silently as he picks up a tee shirt and tosses it over the baby bird, then gently returns it to the garage.

I'm 7: At the tide pools. He is teaching me about the animals that live there and how a sea anemone is an animal that looks like a plant-- he shows me how to touch it.

I'm 9: Day hike at Big Sur. We're up on a trail above Big Sur River swimming area. "Do you want to swim?"--Oh, yes! "Then pick the trail to get us down there"......I picked the wrong trail. Got us hopelessly lost (well, I was hopelessly lost--he knew where we were, but was along for the ride). And then, when I was embarrassed and worried about picking the wrong trail, he showed me how to find my way. What to look for. And that if I ever really got lost, to stop moving. Sit tight and wait to be found.

I'm 10: We're at my grandparents' cabin, way up on the Russian River. He is trying to teach me to fish. Even then I was a budding vegetarian. So when I finally caught a fish, I started to cry. He asked me why I was crying and I said I wanted the fish to live....so we put it back in the water. Then, since fish was for dinner and I wouldn't eat any fish, he put me in the car and we drove forever to get to a little store. No problem. No lecture. Not a harsh word. And I am still grateful for his understanding...

Same trip. I had been swimming in the river every day. But that morning, water had been let out of the dam upstream. I jumped in and the water was cold, the current strong and swift. I tried swimming back to the landing, but it was impossible. I was being carried down the river. I yelled for my dad. He jumped in and got to me. And then he taught me to just swim for the shore, don't try to go against the current.....you can always walk back to the cabin. Just swim towards the shore.

There were all the other things, not moments so much as on-going lessons and advise. What to do in case of different types of fires. How to tell if an animal is safe to approach, to touch. How to camp. Ride a bike. Drive in the fog.......

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I lost my dad in high school--the difficult memories from the war became too much for him. For years I was numb. Then I was angry for a very long time. Angry that he didn't see me graduate, or walk me down the aisle. That he wasn't there to advise me on my major, plan a career, or how to buy a car. Just not there. Such a huge gap in my life.

But now I understand more about the nature of PTSD. And about the frailty of the human spirit. I understand that his courage and self-assurance--the qualities that made me feel so safe, came in part from his experiences and everything that he endured. And I am filled with both a profound sadness for the price he paid and a profound gratitude for his legacy. And I am in awe of the realization that all his lessons, his teachings, were his way of weaving a net of protection around me. I am humbled to realize how much he loved me and wanted to keep me safe.

And I am so proud to introduce myself to all of you first as his daughter.

Happy Father's Day, Papa
I Love You

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