Like Superman (October 12)

“Like Superman, fly high, way up in the sky…”
Do super heroes get old?
Do they retire?
Do they ever lose their powers?

My superman is aging. I remember when I was a kid, he rescued me from the overwhelming suffocation of nurture and femininity (My momma and sister) that can cripple a young boys life. He was always super human. He bathed me, and listened to me every morning when I’d wine about wanting a dog. He eventually bought one. He worked very hard to walk the line between giving me things that I wanted and spoiling me. He would take me everywhere he went. Although looking back, it couldn’t have been everywhere. But I would go to work, to church, and to the barbershop. Ah the barbershop, that last bastion of black maleness. I learned so much there, and with him and his interaction with other men, although mere mortals.
He was my superman.

And he still is. He’s just losing a little bit of his powers. I remember the day he took me to the 84 Lumber Store [They still have one in Frederick.] and he participated in a contest with the rednecks to see who can hit a nail through a piece of lumber with the fewest strikes. I don’t even know where he placed, but in my mind he won, because he was superman.
When he went to the office, he seemed to run the place. You couldn’t tell me that Mr. Nelson didn’t run the D.C. Government. He might as well have been the mayor (they say he looks like him, I always denied ), because to me, well he was superman. It wasn’t until my brother told me about his boss and some other bosses that would routinely pass him up for advancements because he refused to kiss butt. Isn’t that like older siblings? Always debunking myths for their younger siblings too early. He also told me he fought superman, and the mere fact that he was still alive assured me that it wasn’t true.

I see the kryptonite. I see what cripples you; after all I am your son. Now does that make me super boy or something like that?

Well this weekend, while we were moving that fridge, and for the first time I realized that you needed me to take the heavier side.

Wow, I realized that I might be physically stronger than superman. And I know I’m no superman. So it hit me, you may not have superhuman strength.

I guess after many failed household projects I realized that you couldn’t do everything. But for a long time I believed that you could. And you’re two grandchildren are teen’s and you don’t have anymore. It’s hitting me that I’m going to have to become someone’s superman.

And I know that after three kids, you realize better than me what you have passed on. I’m sure that you worked on you as much as you could, while you provided for us.

I understand you so much better now that I am a man.

And I appreciate you so much more, even though you are actually doing less, but in a way you’re not.

I know it’s tough watching your fishing buddies die, and I know you can’t help but wonder if we’ll make it with out the consummate fisher man.

But don’t worry, you did your best…and when you look at us, we’re all in service. We all are excelling in our industry. We can provide for ourselves, and we love ourselves. All due in large part to you being superman. Well at least to you doing the best that you can.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re not ready to let you go on your last fishing trip. Just when we were moving that fridge Monday, and when I saw, heard and felt how much it hurt this weekend loosing one more fishing buddy. I thought what better time than now?

So,

I just wanted to let you know… I love you superman. How many sons wish they could go back and say that? Well not me, even if I start off in not the most intimate place at least I said it. I love you Dell.