Like Father, Like Son

 

 

 

James Michael Link

I want to take this opportunity to honor the man who taught me how to do the most good, my dad Jim.

He passed away very suddenly and very unexpectedly one year ago today, just two days after his 60^th brithday. At the time of his death, he was doing one of the things he loved most and, coincidentally, one of the things he did best – traveling. He traveled a great deal for work including trips to Europe, India and Asia, trips that presented cultural experiences that, for him growing up in the blue-collar town of Wheeling, W.Va., weren’t even thought possible. He was very proud of the job he did and the friends he had made across the globe and it showed.

He understood how he got to where he was going. He loved his job; he loved his family and friends. As I grew older, I realized that I never really heard him complain much about anything. I wondered if he just didn’t complain in front of my younger sister and me or if he really didn’t have much to complain about. I fully believe it was the latter. He knew it was his hard work and dedication that led him there. And, although his delivery was sometimes quirky, he tried to instill that same philosophy into my sister and me.

For as long as I can remember there was one over-arching rule in the Link household that could be applied to almost any situation life threw at us: BE NICE. That’s it. Two words.  Those words held so much meaning, which to me, didn’t fully sink in until the birth of my daughter over three years ago. However, those words and a mental image of him saying them has kept me out of trouble more times than I care to count.

My dad was the least emotional member of the family. I’m sure it was a combination of his upbringing, his desire to avoid conflict and commitment to being the family “rock”. Growing up, this frustrated me beyond comprehension. I didn’t understand why he was so even keeled most of the time. However, when he got mad, lookout!  I knew he was just pushing us to be the people we could be and not the people we were settling to be. But, at the time, I didn’t understand his approach to the lesson at hand.  After I had moved out and became the successful person he knew I could be, he tried to apologize for this in only a way he could but I understood his agenda.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was lucky enough to have my hero around 32 years but very unfortunate not to realize to until he was gone. I always looked up to him. I always envied his travels, his cool friends and his nice cars. It’s only since he’s been gone that I’ve realized that he was my compass. He always pointed me in the right direction, without fail. He was a great man who was trying his best to make me a better man. THANK YOU, DAD!