Thursday, June 16, 2011


Fathers are special. I'm not trying to lift up my own status or diminish the mother, because the mother is in a league of their own, above all. The father is someone that for centuries people turn to, whether it be advice, conquest, authority, and so on. The father for a long time has been the "name" of the family. To discuss a persons lineage was to discuss who their father was. Talk about responsibility. Your family name could be Mudd, pun and incorrect spelling intended, based on samuel mudd. John Q. Adams once said "Who we were in the past, is who we are now". I'm beyond proud to be linked to my father Jeff Wise. I couldn't have asked for a more honorable man as a father. Well respected, admired, enjoyed. Just a few adjectives people use to describe my father. Growing up my buddies called him "The Dean" and "Coach" titles of respect. They feared him but not in scared way, but because they knew of his expectations he held for us all. Letting down the Dean wasn't on our to-do list. One of the most respectable qualities of my father is his ability to be humble. Brad and I never grew up to stories his football success in high school or college. He could of put us to sleep at night with stories of the "wizard" running up touchdown totals for the college of Wooster, instead he chose to encourage us and push us. I know fathers that talk up their smallest accomplishments, and yet my father always changed the subject when his career was brought up. We had to pry information out of him and our grandpa. I could honestly list all the great ways my father created a name for our family. He chose family over career, staying in Tiffin to be an assistant when he could have been a successful head coach anywhere he chose. He modeled a responsible father growing up, being fiscally responsible, loving our mother, taking care of our home, and providing everything we needed. He modeled a christian home, raising us in a church, encouraging us to live like Godly men. My father isn't perfect, no one is. The best part is that my father didn't hide behind his pride. If there ever was a mistake made, he taught me the mistake he made and showed me the correct way. I'm proud of my father. Proud of my lineage. I hope someday my daughter will look at me when she is turning 30 and think have the good thoughts I have about me, as I do my dad. Love ya dad. I still remember the sand castles, the leg shaking trap, the wrestle matches, the football games, the hours of you catching my pitches and throws (even when I did hurt your hands). Thanks for being my dad even when it was hard.