Thursday, February 9, 2012

A week with Dad - Thursdays...

Ah Thursdays. Thursdays had an interesting meaning to me while I was growing up. During my elementary and junior high years, every other Thursday I would go and visit Mom. When High School hit, I ended up moving in with my Mom, so every other Thursday switched to being a night at Dad's.

Then I got my license, and a car. I was still living at Mom's, but it was up to me at that point when and where I wanted to go. It was around this time, that Dad started suggesting the Advanced Karate Class on Thursday nights! I'm sure part of that timing was because I had gotten my brown belt by now and could actually join the advanced class. Thus, Thursdays became another karate night for Dad and I. Much different to Mondays though. As mentioned above, Thursdays were for purple, brown and black belts. (For those unfamiliar with our Karate school - the belt color order is: white - yellow- green - blue - purple - brown - black). As I mentioned in a previous post, Karate was a huge part of my life growing up, and something I will always treasure.

There was a weekend every February that was our Karate Seminar. Our Sensai would come down from Toronto and we would have a Friday evening class, a Saturday morning class and a Sunday afternoon class. And then we would all go out for a late lunch on Sunday and relish our accomplishments.

One such weekend, Dad received his black belt. In our school, it is very difficult to advance in belts. Receiving a new belt wasn't tied to how long you've been around. It wasn't a pity belt. You had to work extremely hard, and show a very high level of skill. They say it takes as long to go from brown belt to black as it does to get from white to brown. I'll never forget when he got it.

It's customary, when someone receives a new belt, to come up after class and shake their hand and congratulate them. I was so excited to do that when Dad got his belt. I got in line behind all the others, and waited my turn. But I can assure you, once I got to him - there was no shaking hands. When it was my turn, Dad took one look at me, and we both burst into tears. A big hug was the only way to congratulate him. He said later that he'd been doing well at holding it together until then...

A few weeks later, I presented Dad with a picture of him getting his belt, and a short poem I'd written:

For years you worked towards it,
For months you fretted about it,
Over a weekend you were tested for it,
And on February 27th you received it.

I'm so proud of you Dad!!

It's only as we get older that we realize we can be proud of our parents and their accomplishments. I was so lucky to have been old enough to appreciate that moment.

We practiced many Thursday nights after that with him as a black belt. He would show me Katas (sort of like a dance routine, but for Karate), help me with my sparring, and generally practice the art with me. As a black belt, Dad was even able to teach the occasional class if our regular instructor was called away. That was another moment of pride for me - A little different than teaching six year-olds. And yet, I like to think Dad made an impression on all his audiences. For those who knew him, you'll know what I mean.

Be proud of your family and friends. The things we accomplish on a daily basis are actually quite amazing!! We are all amazing.

Enjoy today. Enjoy Thursday.

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