For those of you who knew him, you know that the world has lost one of its best. For those who never had the opportunity, you missed out on meeting someone who just might have changed how you look at this world.
I didn't realize it until the last few years, but my Dad was one of the most influential factors in making me who I am.
Coffee lover: I grew up with there always being a pot on the coffee maker and a cup in his hand.
Strong work ethic: My Dad worked every day of his life and taught me that if I wanted something, I was going to have to work for it myself. Nobody is going to just hand you things in this life. At least nothing you will really appreciate.
Value education: If I got a 99% on a test, my Dad asked what happened to the other 1%. He would tell me that I'm smart enough to learn it all so why not work a little harder and be perfect. He would get angry when he met kids who had either been failed by the school system or by their own parents. He would donate his time and tutor those kids to help them pass tests, graduate high school and even get into college. He would teach them the lessons he taught his own kids.
Foodie: My Dad didn't start to really love cooking until later in his life... around the same time I started getting good in the kitchen. We exchanged recipes and spent hours talking about the science behind food preparation. We even share a private blog which lists recipes we've found, "invented", or recreated from my Grandmother.
Beer snob: My Dad was my father until I turned 21 and then he became my friend. It happened over pints at the Fox and Firkin pub in Corvallis, OR when I was in college. I went to my Dad's alma matter, Oregon State. He would come visit me and we would spend hours in the pub talking about his college days while sampling all the great microbrews from the PNW. I had the honor of sharing a few good beers with him last week.
More handy then most men you know: My Dad owned a door and window business and I grew up in his shop. I would watch the crew work, help out where they would let me, and spend a lot of time driving the fork truck around. I grew up around wood and tools. I helped my Dad build a barn. We built wooden go carts to race down the pastures. My Dad gave me tools (new and antique) and taught me how to use them. Most of all, he gave me the courage to try a project even if I didn't know exactly what I was doing.
Cyclist: Now, my Dad was no pro cyclist. He was a hippy in college and was "dirt poor". What he did have was an old 10 speed and time. I grew up hearing about how he would go for 100+ mile rides on the weekends. He'd ride from Corvallis to Eugene or the Oregon Coast. He'd even use the slip stream from trucks to rocket down I-5 (imagine a hippy motor pacing down a major interstate!!!). Whenever I would hear those stories I would think to myself "Wow! ONE HUNDRED miles! I wonder if I could ever do that..." Ironman, anyone?
Value experiences more than possessions: My favorite Christmas of my whole life was spent in the mountains with my Dad, Ruth, Evan and the dogs. We found snow covered logging roads, went sledding, rolled around in the snow with the dogs and laughed all day. What gift could possibly be better than that memory? To this day, I would rather give or receive experiences than typical gifts. They are what really matter. They are what you will carry with you the rest of your life.
There are no words to express how lucky I am to have had such a wise, funny, incredible man in my life. My world will never be the same without him. He was an avid blogger (www.lylewisdom.blogspot.com) so I'm resurrecting my blog in his honor.
Lyle Wilson
July 14, 1949 - December 25, 2012
