Yesterday I was driving back from San Antonio with my wife after visiting my dad and stepmom. (Can I tell you that I hate that word stepmom? She is the sweetest lady and that word does not even come close to describe her.) Anyway, as I was driving, we had my IPod playing the Best of Dan Fogelberg. One of my favorite songs is “The Leader of the Band”. It pays homage to his father as he is now getting up in age. I find myself also reflecting on the life of my own father.
I have been blessed beyond words as my father has been a dad in every sense of the word. My dad was born in Puerto Rico and came to the US via the Korean War. While serving over there, he was one of the few of his platoon to survive a “big push”. He was severely wounded and sent to Brook Army Medical Center at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio. He spent the next year and a half in the hospital. It was there that he met a missionary and fell in love. My dad married my mom way before I was twinkle in their eyes.
My mom was a staunch Southern Baptist; my dad was a Disciples of Christ. You can guess who won that denominational battle. My dad enrolled in a Hispanic Southern Baptist seminary in San Antonio. After seminary, my dad went onto pastor several small Spanish speaking congregations throughout Texas.
Dad’s health due to his war injuries and others, allowed him the opportunity to finally get his 100% disability and retire. I was a sophomore in high school at the time. At the same time my mom’s health declined leaving her mostly bedridden. My dad waited on my mom hand and foot until the day the Lord took her into glory.
A couple of years later he marries a lady from Puerto Rico, named Carmen. Carmen as I said earlier is a fantastic woman. In early 1990, she suffered a major stroke leaving her with physical and speech limitations. Again, my dad dotes on her. They make the cutest couple. That’s what I want, if the Lord allows me to reach 83 years.
As I listened to the song I couldn’t help but thinking of my own dad. The part that always gets me tearing up is the last part of the song as follows:
I thank you for the music
I have been blessed beyond words as my father has been a dad in every sense of the word. My dad was born in Puerto Rico and came to the US via the Korean War. While serving over there, he was one of the few of his platoon to survive a “big push”. He was severely wounded and sent to Brook Army Medical Center at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio. He spent the next year and a half in the hospital. It was there that he met a missionary and fell in love. My dad married my mom way before I was twinkle in their eyes.
My mom was a staunch Southern Baptist; my dad was a Disciples of Christ. You can guess who won that denominational battle. My dad enrolled in a Hispanic Southern Baptist seminary in San Antonio. After seminary, my dad went onto pastor several small Spanish speaking congregations throughout Texas.
Dad’s health due to his war injuries and others, allowed him the opportunity to finally get his 100% disability and retire. I was a sophomore in high school at the time. At the same time my mom’s health declined leaving her mostly bedridden. My dad waited on my mom hand and foot until the day the Lord took her into glory.
A couple of years later he marries a lady from Puerto Rico, named Carmen. Carmen as I said earlier is a fantastic woman. In early 1990, she suffered a major stroke leaving her with physical and speech limitations. Again, my dad dotes on her. They make the cutest couple. That’s what I want, if the Lord allows me to reach 83 years.
As I listened to the song I couldn’t help but thinking of my own dad. The part that always gets me tearing up is the last part of the song as follows:
I thank you for the music
And your stories of the road
I thank you for the freedom
When it came my time to go --
I thank you for the kindness
And the times when you got tough
And, Papa, I don’t think I said
I love you near enough --
The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through my instrument
And his song is in my soul --
My life has been a poor attempt
To imitate the man
I’m just a living legacy
To the leader of the band
I am the living legacy
To the leader of the band.
My dad is living a great legacy and I try to tell him I love him so much. I am proud of my dad. My favorite time of my visits to see Dad is when I’m leaving. You see my dad will stand in front of the house and wave; and keep waving until we turn the corner and are out of sight. I know one day he will not be there to wave and so I cherish each and every wave. Isn’t that silly?
God bless you and I hope you a great and happy Christmas! Feliz Navidad!
My dad is living a great legacy and I try to tell him I love him so much. I am proud of my dad. My favorite time of my visits to see Dad is when I’m leaving. You see my dad will stand in front of the house and wave; and keep waving until we turn the corner and are out of sight. I know one day he will not be there to wave and so I cherish each and every wave. Isn’t that silly?
God bless you and I hope you a great and happy Christmas! Feliz Navidad!