My Amazing Dad...

... is going back to school. At 59 years old. And legally blind. I am so proud of him.

Encouraged by my nephew's pre-school class, my dad has found his true calling-- pre-school teacher's aide.

Had anyone told me 15 years ago that my dad would be "Papa Allen" to 20 three to five year-olds, I would have looked at them like they were straight up nuts. But the most incredible thing has happened in the past 15 years.

My dad and I were never too close when I was growing up. Honestly, things were downright frigid between us at times. When he married my mom, my dad also inherited a very smart-alecky six year-old. I was stubborn and wary. He was sort of overwhelmed and unsure how to fix the situation.

When my daughter was born, my dad was transformed. Once a stern disciplinarian, my dad absolutely melted when he first held the tiny creature he christened his "Little Katy Doodle." A year later, when my son was born, it seemed that not a hard spot to his countenance remained. He couldn't get enough of his grandbabies. He and I also realized that we couldn't afford to remain at arm's length from one another.

Five-and-a-half years ago, when my nephew Elijah was born, my dad's evolution was complete. He was fully and officially "Papa Pushover." While my sister worked, Elijah and Papa spent most all their days together. I used to get a chuckle when I would try to make plans with my dad, only to be told something like, "I can't have you come over and visit at 2:00 on Saturday. Elijah will be napping."

When I suggested that we could be quiet enough that we wouldn't wake the baby, my dad said, "Well, the problem is that the baby naps on my chest..."

Last year, when Elijah started pre-school, my dad's job was to get Elijah to school. Because my dad is both color blind and legally blind due to macular degeneration, he no longer drives. The only option was to walk Elijah the half-mile or so to his pre-school class.

Soon enough, the teacher was asking my dad if he would be interested in just staying for the three-hour class once in a while. The occasional visit turned into multiple times a week. The children grew to love him. The class made him Christmas gifts, and presented Papa Allen with a trophy at the pre-school graduation this past June.

My dad has had a life that's been pretty tough at times-- some of it by circumstance, some of it by choice. Because of financial and other family issues, he never finished high school. He was well into his thirties before he got his GED and a degree in the construction trades. His diminishing eye sight soon made plying that trade difficult, and even dangerous.

Outside of football and 70's rock and roll, I've never seen my dad passionate about much. That is, until I called him today to ask him if he would be coming with us to a music festival over the Labor Day weekend.

He asked me to remind him when the dates were, and when I did, he said, "Oh, I can't do that. I'll miss school."

"School?"

"Yeah, school. I am going to school to work on some early childhood classes so that I can be a teacher's aide."

I am so excited for him. I have been living in a season for the past two years where I keep watching with great enthusiasm, and some envy, as people I know are resurrecting themselves, or jumping off corporate carousels, or otherwise finding ways to find vibrance in their lives.

Watching my dad pursue with earnest something he's so passionate about makes me want to take the same kind of flying leap. If he can do it in the September of his life, and nearly blind, it seems that I should be able to do it too...