I have always had a hard time distinguishing between heroism and courage. Most people are able to do this easily and, perhaps, all the time in their daily lives. Maybe I am the one out of a million that is confused by this definite rationale. A lot of people seem to believe that heroism is nothing more than the crescendo of courageous acts. Achieved by the same course; however, you simply have to go further down the path. That has not been my experience. And if you asked me if I wanted to become more courageous in my life, I am not all sure if I would, exactly because it proves to be such a challenging behavior to cultivate. Unlike others, it is not as obvious to me how we should make a modification of our daily lives for courage. Maybe the
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He was a master diesel mechanic for many years for a construction company. His job was to fix any machine that broke down at all the construction sites had at the time. That meant that he would be on call for all of his career at that company. This put a strain on my mother because she rarely got to see my father and had deal with a new marriage, a toddler, and two boys under the age of ten. While doing a routine maintenance on a off-highway truck, something broke on the engine and the only way for my father to reach it was to hang off a rope right in front of the tries. When he was almost done fixing the part, another off-highway truck backed up too close and squished my father between the grooves of the tires. Growing up I remember watching my father, the breadwinner, endure seeing my mother taking up the torch to support our family knowing that he could do nothing. He went through many painful experimental surgeries and therapies. I can still hear the groan in this voice when one of the nurses came to our house to give him medicine. I was both mad and scared of what the nurse was giving my father. I did not know at that point that that was the only medicine that was curing him, I all knew was that the nurse was making my father hurt. Years later, at the end of his recovery, he finally reached the point where he could finally lift himself out of bed and sit himself in a wheelchair. Like my beloved hero Hercules, my …show more content…
Today, you are going to be daddy’s hands. Ok? ”
That day he walked me through how to do a simple oil change. I did not know it at the time, but that day I witnessed my first act of heroism. Even though he did not kill a lion, my father slayed a different type of beast that day, his fear. It took every drop of bravery in my father to not give into his fear of dying and continue on with his life after the accident. Reflecting back on it, I do not know if I would be able to humble myself to fight that fear of uncertainty. All of his efforts did not go to waste. Today, my father is now able to walk and function normally just as he had before the
He was a master diesel mechanic for many years for a construction company. His job was to fix any machine that broke down at all the construction sites had at the time. That meant that he would be on call for all of his career at that company. This put a strain on my mother because she rarely got to see my father and had deal with a new marriage, a toddler, and two boys under the age of ten. While doing a routine maintenance on a off-highway truck, something broke on the engine and the only way for my father to reach it was to hang off a rope right in front of the tries. When he was almost done fixing the part, another off-highway truck backed up too close and squished my father between the grooves of the tires. Growing up I remember watching my father, the breadwinner, endure seeing my mother taking up the torch to support our family knowing that he could do nothing. He went through many painful experimental surgeries and therapies. I can still hear the groan in this voice when one of the nurses came to our house to give him medicine. I was both mad and scared of what the nurse was giving my father. I did not know at that point that that was the only medicine that was curing him, I all knew was that the nurse was making my father hurt. Years later, at the end of his recovery, he finally reached the point where he could finally lift himself out of bed and sit himself in a wheelchair. Like my beloved hero Hercules, my …show more content…
Today, you are going to be daddy’s hands. Ok? ”
That day he walked me through how to do a simple oil change. I did not know it at the time, but that day I witnessed my first act of heroism. Even though he did not kill a lion, my father slayed a different type of beast that day, his fear. It took every drop of bravery in my father to not give into his fear of dying and continue on with his life after the accident. Reflecting back on it, I do not know if I would be able to humble myself to fight that fear of uncertainty. All of his efforts did not go to waste. Today, my father is now able to walk and function normally just as he had before the