Essay one – someone who has had a
large impact on my life
When I think about trying to find the
one person who has had a large impact on my life, and put it into an
essay I get scared. I think to myself, who in the world has had a
large impact on my life that wouldn't mind being put into an essay,
who can I write about, that would give the reader an honest
interpretation of how my life has gone. Then I realize that it
doesn't really matter if that person is famous, or family, or even if
that person has been around for all of my life, or if I've even ever
met them. I just need to figure out who made me think about what is
important in life. And in the vein, I will write about the man who
didn't have to be my Father.
When I was fourteen, I moved out of my
mothers house, and into my Aunt Cindy and Uncle Gary's home. I had
lived a rather rough life, and had some pretty severe trust issues
when it came to men. But Gary was patient. He had three daughters of
his own already, and a wife, so he was aware of how to handle prickly
females. Not so much of the Teen Variety, but he learned fast! Gary
was (and in my heart still IS) the Daddy I needed. He pushed me to do
well in school, he pushed me to take responsibility for my own
actions, he pushed me to be a better human being, to make a
difference, to say what I need to say, when it needs to be sad, and
he pushed me to do what made me happy.
Up until high-school I merely skated
by, grades were sub par, and I never really tried. But when I got
into that house things changed. I had someone on my back about
homework, and book reports, and honors classes, and what I wanted to
do with the rest of my life. I would come home from school, and he'd
ask me about my day, and what sort of homework I had to do, and if I
needed any help. At first, my responses were a long the lines of “
Fine, no homework, I don't need your help”. That hanged quickly. He
knew I wasn't doing my homework, so he contacted my teachers, and
asked them to email him all of my daily assignments, so that we could
go over them at home. They did.
The first day I came home to him with
my algebra book open, waiting to help me with my homework I almost
flipped out. How dare he try to take over my life! ( true teenage
outrage I assure you) But he was patient even then, strict about me
sitting down and doing my work, but patient. He would have me write
out my essays, and do the math problems, and he made me show my work,
and he corrected all of my spelling mistakes, and all of my
mathematical errors. He was pleasantly surprised to find out that I
not only enjoyed my science work, but that I was good at it, he would
look over everything, and grade it, and praise me for a job well
done. Which helped the sting of the red marks on the math and English
papers. He is the reason I decided to try. And while I own that doing
well in high school was on me, he was the one behind the scenes
making sure that I had the tools needed to get it done.
As a teenager, I freely admit that I
overslept, and was almost late for class on numerous occasions. Not
because I didn't have someone getting up over an hour before they had
to to wake me up, help me pack my lunch and see me out the door, but
because I refused to wake up. Gary would wake up early, wake me up
two, sometimes three times before I'd actually get out of bed, and
make me get out the door in time to either catch the bus, or walk to
school with a note. ( School was over three miles a way, that was way
harsh to my teenager self) I didn't get many rides to school if I
woke up late, simply because Gary believed that if I was ever going
to learn about personal accountability, it may as well be when it
wouldn't cost me my job. I did not appreciate this at the time. And I
certainly did not appreciate that he lost sleep every day just to
wake me up to make sure that I was on my way safely, with lunch
packed in the morning. But he did it anyway. He made it his
responsibility to teach me responsibility. The lessons he taught me
in the early mornings of my high school career have remained with me,
and every morning when I get up on time, and make my breakfast, and
then my lunch, and walk out the door, I think about him, and what an
amazing man he was to have taught me so much, when he didn't have to
teach me anything at all.
Before I went to live with Cindy and
Gary, I really had no background in volunteering, or making a
difference. However Cindy and Gary believed in the power of volunteer
work. Building your life takes a strong foundation of character.
Volunteering and Missionary work were the concrete and water mixture
of those years of my life. It was tough, to balance school, and
church, and volunteering, but my adopted parents made it work. Gary
or Cindy would drop me off with my Grandmother almost every weekend
to volunteer at the North east area agency on aging, and most of the
summer as well. My parents would drive me to church bake sales with
piles of goodies to sell to raise money for mission trips, for myself
and others. The value of hard work was ingrained in them, and they
worked hard to ingrain it into me as well. It was a lot of work, but
it never felt like that. It always felt like fun. I got to spend time
with family like my Grandmother, or friends from church, or kids from
school while I volunteered, and it never seemed to be difficult. I
think that's because it wasn't presented as an obligation, so much as
an opportunity for growth. It's just part of how Gary and Cindy made
me into a better human being, who could make a difference.
Gary was special to me, he was the
first non-blood related male I was ever able to be around without
being terrified of what would happen when the lights went out. And it
took a while for me to warm up to him, apparently I used to run
whenever he entered the room. I finally did, though, and he never
changed, he was just as loving, and sweet and wonderful a father when
we first met as he was when he passed away last year. He taught me
that if you love someone, you tell them that you love them. Because
you want to be able to know for certain that they know how you felt
if they died before you could see them again. He never hesitated to
give any of “his girls” a hug and a kiss, and tell us he loved
us. Every night before bed, every morning before school, and in every
action he took to take care of his family, he showed us how much he
loved us. Even if he was disappointed he would still remind me that
he loved me, and that he just wanted me to do what was best for
myself.
I think the most important, and
impactful thing Gary ever did was teach me that my main job in life,
is to be happy. Happy with who I am, the choices I make, and the
people I allow into my life. He taught me that the happiness of true
family is not in blood relation, but rather in emotional ties. Going
through life with a smile in place that's real instead of forced is
the most important gift you can give to your loved ones. And that's
the gift he gave to all of his, and the best lesson he passed on to
me.
Gary was, and will always be, an
amazing father. He didn't have to be mine, but he was anyway. He
showed me my worth, and every day I am thankful that he was in my
life for the last nine years of his. He is part of the reason I want
to go back to school. Because of his lessons I can do well, I can own
it, I can make a difference, say what needs to be said. Going back to
school is something that will make me happy, so, in honor of my
Daddy, that's what I plan to do.
