Time is strange in the respect that you can never tell if it is friend or foe from one day to the next. If you really think about it, if one was to regard “time” as a person you could relegate it to the status of a fair-weather friend, in that you can never place where its allegiances may lie. In one moment time is comforting you with fond memories of yesteryear while in another it is making you cognizant of your own mortality.
Throughout my life I have weathered many storms and in my ongoing quest to leave a lasting legacy, the core principles that my parents instilled in me have empowered me to move past rather than dwell on them, regardless of the circumstance I have been indelibly colored by them and for that I am grateful. In my formative years as I battled with the middle child syndrome I gave my parents more than their fair share of trials, tribulations, joy, pain along with a consistent headache, but they always stood in my corner without flinching.
The first teacher that a boy has is his father, this is the person that they will take their cue from whether good or bad. Nowadays many men treat this duty as something that is a part-time or optional chore. My Dad like anyone else was not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but the dedication and love that he showed me was something that was perfect in every sense of the word, it was my Dad who taught me not to expect accolades for doing what you are supposed to do.