From A Son to His Father

A few weeks back, Papa Prate decided that the best way to bring in his 50th birthday would be to fly out into the middle of nowhere in order to visit his oldest son.

I can't really describe how much it means to me that my family supports me in what I am doing this year (and next!) out in South Dakota with the Jesuit Volunteer Core.  Even when, at times, we disagreed on what the best step would be for my life, both of my parents have always supported me, challenged me, and ultimately, loved me with the care that only parents can.  To have my Dad choose to spend such a big moment out here with me brings a lot of joy to my heart.

We spent a great week driving (because that's a lot of what you do here), meeting and greeting, filling each other in, re-meeting each other (we have both grown a lot over these last 6 months), and praying.  We attended a prayer service for life, held in order to address the murders and suicides that have occurred on the Rez over the last 2 months, in order to demonstrate, especially to the youth, that life is something to be valued.  We attended the dinner afterwards and I introduced to everyone - co-workers from the mission, neighbors, other volunteers, drifters from the neighborhood - all glad to welcome him here.  We went to a sweat that night, and I was grateful for all of those guys to welcome us in, to share their prayers with us, let us share ours - it meant a lot to me to share that experience with my Dad.  That type of experience is so unique to where I am at this time in my life, it is not something either of us had ever really done before.  It was humbling to hear the people in the lodge give thanks for our presence, a father and son, there to pray for the people and give thanks for our lives. 

My Dad has always been a role model for me.  I have looked up to this man for as long as I can remember.  He is the kind of person that makes me want to be a better man myself, who gives me an example of what a good husband and father looks like, what a man committed to other people looks like.  We might disagree on methods or style (put a picture of us next to each other now and you'll laugh for sure), but he has a heart I admire.  Whether it be taking the time each morning to make coffee and leave my Mom a note before he left for work, or re-adjusting his schedule to make sure he could make it to every single one of my soccer games.  I have learned much from him, and continue to learn.

In this volunteer year, I have begun to struggle with doing the little things.  it bothers me, but I have to admit it's true.  As a volunteer, people treat me so well - tons of food, opening their homes at a moments notice, sharing their families and their resources, asking for nothing in return.  It is as if they are saying that while I give my time volunteering, they can help support me in that.  I am very, very, appreciative of this.  it is not always easy for me to let myself be taken care of, but it has been humbling for me to accept this.  But despite all of this, I cannot help but feel that I am forgetting a major part of who I learned to be growing up.  It makes me uncomfortable that, in the midst of all my "volunteering" and work, I have lost some of my attention to the little ways of showing my thanks and appreciation for people.  To go out of my way to show people how valuable and loved they are.  Despite my status as a volunteer, I don't want to lose sight of the things that made me the kind of human I want to be - because at the end of my time with JVC, I won't be a volunteer anymore, but the habits I formed and nurtured here will carry over. 

My Dad helped remind me of that.  Having him here with me renewed my spirit at a time where I was feeling stuck, uncertain what my next step should be, unaware of how I was being called to grow.  Being around this man helped put me back in touch with my roots, with those roots of love that drove me to apply to do something like this in the first place.  In my fight for global justice, in defying oppressive systems, in altering my lifestyle and life philosophy. I want to remember to make the coffee and write a not in the morning - for Mike and Jessica, for our new friends here, our coworkers, my family at home.  All the people who make this whole experience possible in the first place.

I told Mike and Jessica this part of my childhood, but when I was younger, I would sometimes wait up for my Dad to get home late from a day of work that could span from before I woke up to after dinner.  I would take out 2 glasses of milk and a package of graham crackers for each of us, and we would sit to share ourselves.  This will remain for me one of my most sacred memories, these moments of true communion. 

My Mom sent out some of these cookies with my Dad for me and my community (thanks Mom!).  As I sit down with a glass of milk and cookies, I will think of my Dad, think of how he continues to guide me and point me in a good direction.  it will help me to reflect back on what I want to move towards, and on the man who helped shaped me so much in the person I am becoming today.

Thanks for your life Dad, and for continuing to inspire me each day.  I love you.