real man.....

I've been saturated from birth by what a real man should be. These concepts that our culture holds dear, that a real man should be tough, strong, protective of his home and family, handy with tools, sports loving, beer drinking, keeps the kids in line, and handles the buisness in general. A real man comes home after all this and doesn't complain about his life.

A real man needs to be then tough one at home too, he's the griller, the carpenter, the landscaper, and the mechanic. The real man is the bread winner and the home provider and would rather be beaten to death rather than have another man handle his buisness. A real man has a wife, not a baby's momma, he doen't have to travel farther than across the house if he wants to see his kids. The real man does things that his kids admire and they want to be just like him. He seems like a genious, taking apart complex things that no longer work and make them function "as good as new".

A real man gives to his family first, himself last. He knows that people see him not by how he looks, but by how his kids look. And he does it all for no reward other than knowing he's doing the right thing, his family loves him for it, and that's good enough for him.

That was always my idea anyway. I don't see alot of those anymore. Daddy's still doing his thing, Mommy is somewhere else struggling to keep it together and the kids suffer. There are a lot of full grown boys out there that never take on the honor of being a real man. Doing so, he never finds his real woman, and if he finds her, he leaves her because it's "too much to handle".

I've seen what happens too often when a male adult refuses to be a man and it's sad the damage a full grown child can do in a man's body. He gets a woman pregnant, creates an obligation, and abandons it. And though he may leave he still teaches his child how to be his version of a man. They learn to run when it gets too tough, never to live up to the full potential they have.

My Mom's first mariage was to a boy, and they had me. Her second marriage was to a man, I call him Dad. He stuck it out over all those years, good, bad, and worse. He taught me what a real man does for his family. He taught me that when you love a woman that has children, they are a part of the package and you take care of them as your own. He's not perfect, but I always knew his values were in the right place and the fact he tried was good enough. I would not be where I am today without his example.

So to John Wilson, thank you.