Those images, those sights, smells and sound, will be indelibly etch in his mind, so it's still my duty, although I am no longer "dad", to make those memories as great as possible. I know if I do it right, one day, in the future, if he's lucky enough to find a woman that will share her life with him, he might, someday, then enjoy Christmas with a few kids of his own, and do it right.
Thinking along those lines, I thought it was a perfect time to pull out one of my past submissions.
The Apple Does Not Fall Far.
In my early years I was a gambling man, Oh yeah, I shot craps and participated in various games of chance. Along the way, I noticed those who were running the games (house man), always came out on top. Then I figured out the intimate details of their “luck”. Well, of course it wasn't luck, they always had the best hand because in some form or fashion, they were cheating. Or at the very least, the odds were somehow slanted in their favor. I never liked losing, so I “borrowed” the cheating mindset. I know, that's nothing to be proud of, and later, I had a price to pay for my indiscretions. I took cheating with me when I entered the military (that’s me on my home page, sitting on the airplane).
So, I was dropping bad “apples” at an early age. I’ll get back to that.
Looking back and taking a deeper look into this tree and fruit thang, I can’t help but look at the tree from which I came. But first, if I was still a gambling man (I am not, I’d rather put a quarter in a wash machine than a slot machine) I would bet that those who are racists or have strong prejudice views, come from a household with a similar mindset. But it does not stop there.
I’d venture to say the overwhelming majority of people that find themselves divorced, separated, or in a rotten relationship, come from a broken home, a fatherless home, or a home were violence,confusion and/or general mayhem was the soup of the day. But don’t make your move too soon, the house is still rockin, the beat goes on. I am prone to believe that if a person is overweight or never engaged in organized sports, it’s highly probable that their parents loved a heap of pig feet, and a pound of cornbread. Yep, eating until one’s gut quakes, is a learned behavior.