On the night before Opening Day of Deer Hunting--practically a holiday in some parts of the country--it only seems appropriate to talk about taking the perfect shot, chasing the "BIG ONE", and coming home with a trophy to brag about for the ages.
I tweeted once before: If it almost happened...IT NEVER REALLY HAPPENED. The most annoying hunters, fisherman, and tall-tale tellers can relive their story of the "one that got away." Great stuff around the campfire, but there is not much, if anything, to show for it. On the opposite side of the spectrum, somebody has the shoulder mount on the wall. The meat in the freezer. The money in the bank. Those "somebodies" have INTEGRITY. That's right. INTEGRITY. At the simplest level, people with INTEGRITY do what they say they are going to do. It's one thing to say you're going to save $1000 this month; It's another to check that account at the end of it. It's easy to say you'll be to work on time. It's another to be there on time...every. single. day. It's one thing to want to improve your marriage; it's another to make reservations and find a babysitter... You have to have INTEGRITY. Sometimes....YOU HAVE TO JUST DO IT. And then....you have to do it consistently. What is the size of the "rack" on your wall? Was there a decent amount of time that went into your hunt? Did you see a "thirty pointer"? Or did you pull the trigger? There is nothing wrong with planning. ...With setting goals. ...with aspiring to be and do better. It is only a problem if you don't actually DO IT. Be Safe. Pursue the BIG ONE. then...PULL THE TRIGGER.
0 Comments
I had the privilege of speaking on behalf of our family today at my grandfathers funeral. Below is the transcript of my tribute. In preparation for today, I have really struggled to summarize my thoughts and convey everyone’s experiences and memories into something that I felt represented my grandfather. Listening to and observing the family over the past 72 hours has revealed to me the beautiful complexity of such a simple man. That balance has made this talk that much more difficult to put together. My hope is that we are lifted through the laughter and reflective through the sorrow, remembering Dave in a way that moves us forward in the spirit of a legacy that he worked so hard to leave behind.
I’m finding out as a parent, and I began learning this as a basketball coach, the hardest thing for me to teach…is character. Those who spent any time with Dave knew that he was one. They also knew…that he HAD it. I believe your value as a person is created…by WHO you are. Not by the things you do. I absolutely believe that is why my grandfather was equally as valuable in the hayfield, as in a hunting shack, as in a sales pitch, and around the dinner table. WHO he was—was consistent. It was authentic. It was honest. From WHO he was, there are many THINGS that we have to remember. I don’t have time to explain all the one-liners, the unorthodox advice, or memorable moments that many of us had in our time with him. With that said, when you get a chance, I’d encourage you to ask his kids how long it took them to get to childhood destinations. Or what to do if they got a cut or a bruise. Be sure to ask Dalton and my Grandma what they were to do if it was supposed to rain. And check with one of the grandkids on what it was like to get dropped off for school in the morning when your parents were out of town. Likewise, you may or may not want to ask what was in the lunches he packed on a hot summer day when my grandma was out of town. Or similarly, what was in the jerky and summer sausage he loved to make. Somebody else might be able to tell you why he didn’t have any hair on his legs but I know the questions you’ll never have to ask: If he cared. If you could borrow his truck. If he loved his wife. If you could count on him. You never had to question his work ethic, his motivations, or his wit. He showed me his “famous” hook shot. He taught a few of us how to fish. He gave his family a heart of generosity 10 times bigger than his coffee cup. I have seen him in the way the kids comb their hair and wear their pants. I watch him in the work ethic and the drive among his children. I hear his presence in songs about the farm. Up until this point I haven’t missed him—I haven’t needed to. His legacy, because of WHO he was, is all around me—and in all of you. Next time you have a chocolate malt, or a pinch of Skoal, or strap on your suspenders, remember WHO YOU ARE—and how valuable YOU’VE BECOME because of a simple man: Who was his work. Who loved his home. And who is his family. Thank you for BEING the celebration of his life with me today. |
DJ JohnstonDaddy. Leader. Visionary. Archives
March 2020
Categories |