Sometimes, it can take you an awfully long time (like until the ripe old age of 35, in my case) to realize things that you should have known a long time ago. The clues are always there; the signs are always around us. But until we take the time to look for them, they remain invisible. Sometimes other people point them out to us, or even go to great lengths to shake us and hold the evidence right up to our face, but even then we don’t really “get” it. Some things, we just have to find out for ourselves.
Today I realized that I had (still have) just about the best father a boy could ever hope to have. Not that my dad was perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he really did a good job, and tried the best he could. I never gave him credit for that before now. I never understood him, honestly. I was always too wrapped up in myself to try and understand him or anybody else for that matter. But, today, I had an epiphany, and so I just feel like telling everyone how truly awesome my dad is.
Of course, I suspect that some of you reading this right now already know my dad. He is, after all, “small-town famous”. And if you happen to be from that little middle-of-nowhere town called Dadeville, it’s almost certain that you know my dad. You know him as an awesome basketball coach, or an even better baseball coach. You know him as a fair, upright, and honest man in all of his business dealings. I’ll never forget the day when I had to get my car repaired, and I didn’t have any money. My dad told me to take it to the shop, and just tell the man that he’d be by there to pay for it later that afternoon. Sure enough, the man fixed it, and let me drive it away when I told him my dad’s promise. His exact words were: “If Mike Schryer said he’d be by here, then that’s all the guarantee I need.” Now, that kind of thing might have happened a lot back in the olden days, but this was the early 1990s. That is the true testament to my father.
It was different for me, growing up with him. I saw his flaws, and they irked me. Most of all, it irked me that nobody else could see them. The same thing goes for my brother…but that’s a different blog for a different day. The point is that my dad wasn’t perfect, and I always held that against him, which prevented me from seeing how great a man he really is. I know that sounds kinda dumb…I mean, we all know that nobody is perfect. But that’s just the way I felt. Today, finally, I was able to move past that, and now I can see just how much he did for me. I want to share that with the world.
My dad used to pull me out from school so that I could go to cattle auctions with him. One of my favorite memories is being with him at a cattle auction, and finally figuring out: “Hey, this is how we make money! Our cows have babies, and we sell the babies that we don’t want!” Overwhelmed by this new knowledge and power, I suddenly saw the answer to a whole slew of my problems. I turned to him, and asked (a little too excitedly): “Dad, can we sell Michael?”
My dad’s laugh shook the entire auction house. Ok, maybe not, but that’s how I remember it. He just laughed, patted me on the head, and told me that he didn’t think anybody would buy my brother. To this day, it’s still one of his favorite “Jay” stories of all time. Mine too. 
He taught me how to herd cattle, and how to separate calfs from their mothers. There are two very important life-lessons in this, which might not be readily apparent to anyone who didn’t grow up on a farm. Although, if you know anything about wrestling or martial arts, I’m sure you’ve learned them along the way.
The first lesson is this: The cow will always be bigger than you, stronger than you, and faster than you. The only possible way to win is by being smarter than the cow. In any conflict, the biggest, strongest, and baddest usually wins. You can beat those odds by being smarter and more determined.
The second lesson is this: Not even the biggest, strongest, or baddest enemy will get between a mother and her child. If you want to be the smartest for long, you have to understand that.
My dad taught me everything I needed to know about being a farmer. Unfortunately, life had other plans in mind, so I probably won’t ever have any use for the practical application of those skills. But the lessons in life that came with those skills will serve me well for the rest of my life.
Regarding tools: Always use the right tool for the job. Use one tool at a time. When you’re finished with it, put it back before you get the next tool. A place for everything, and everything in its place.
Regarding the tractor: The tractor goes where you tell it to go. Yes, it goes fast, and yes it is dangerous. But you are always in control. You can slow down, or you can stop. If you see a rock or tree limb in front of you, don’t panic. Just stop the tractor, get off, and try to move it. If you can’t, then back the tractor up and go a different way.
Regarding the garden, and our pastures: Pay attention to the details in the beginning. Prepare the seeds. Study the soil to see what will grow best, and where it will grow best. Know the climate, and the crop. Take the time to learn and study carefully. Then, plant. Do the work first, and then reap the rewards later. If you pay attention to the front end, you have a much better chance of enjoying the back end.
Regarding shooting a gun: It’s “ready…aim…fire!”. Not “Fire! Fire! Fire!”. Don’t just spray bullets and hope to hit the target. Focus on the target, and save your bullets.
Regarding fixing fences, hauling rocks, and dozens of other chores: Take care of the farm, and the farm will take care of you. Again, do the work first, and reap the rewards later.
And finally, sports. My dad taught me a lot about baseball and football, and he taught me all the usual sports cliches. But perhaps the two most important lessons I learned from him are these: 1) If you’re scared of the ball, it will hit you every time. Stop being afraid, and learn how to catch it. 2) Never take a called third strike. If you already have two strikes, you have nothing to lose by swinging. Swing as hard as you can. Swing for the fence, or for the bleachers. Swing with everything you’ve got. If you miss, that’s ok. At least you tried. But if you just stand there, and don’t even try to hit the ball, you will run laps around this field until you collapse and puke.
More importantly than the lessons in life, though, is the fact that my dad truly loved me. He was patient and kind, and he is the epitome of even-keeled behavior. He never loses his cool. He let me tag along with him whenever he worked, and he always made sure I was safe. He grumbled about it, but he always had enough money for my seemingly limitless trips to the concession stands. He bought every car I ever owned, and he made sure that I graduated from college, even when I fought him every step of the way. When I struggled as an adult, he paid my bills, bought groceries for me, and put gas in my car. When my marriage failed, he paid for my divorce, and set me up in a new apartment. He helped me move to Chicago, and he helped me move back when that didn’t work out. He helped me move here to Atlanta, and has constantly coached me in my new job. No matter what I need, my dad is always there for me, and that is the definition of true love.
Thanks, Dad. For Everything.
Love,
Jay