Doing the hard things

There are many things that come to mind when I think of the term commitment. I have served in the military for twenty years that was commitment. I have been married for over twenty five years, that is commitment. I have four kids that is commitment. I have had faith in the saving grace of Christ for longer than I have been married, that is commitment.
I think I received the ability to commit from my father. He did things that you just don’t hear about anymore. My dad smoked Salem cigarettes when I was little. He was very methodical in his smoking. While he was smoking he was trying to complete a National Radio Institute home study course for Television Electronics. He was also assembling heath kit equipment as part of his studying. He would open the NRI books and read a few pages and then pull a cigarette out of the green and white pack and then place the ashtray in arms reach then light the cigarette. I remember him taking the first pull on the cigarette and I remember him putting it out. I don’t remember him actually smoking the entire cigarette. When he finished that cigarette he was done, no more that night.
My dad use to drink. On occasion he would drink to excess. The school he worked for use to have “clam bakes” during the late spring, early summer season. And mom and dad attended them as a rule. I am not sure what happened one night as my mother was not with my dad for this particular clam bake. We drove up to the VFW post behind the bus garage, where the parties were always held. My mom parked the car and left, we did not follow. Sometime later my mom returns and my dad is in tow, literally. We are in the inside of the car and my mom and dad are yelling at each other on the outside of the car. They both finally got in the car and commenced to argue more. I am not sure which one of us kids had the gall to interrupt the “discussion” but I will take the blame. I don’t remember the question I do remember the response, it was not good. In the end you could have heard a pin drop in the back of the car and not another word was said until the next morning.
The next morning was different to say the least. It was one of a very few times where I remember my dad leading what could almost be a family discussion. He had all of us in the kitchen and announced that his conduct “last night” was not right. He announced that he would never do that “again”. In fact he would never drink again. To the best of my memory he has stuck to his word, that is commitment. During the discussion he announced he would not smoke again and he never did, that is commitment.
I learned from my dad that if you say you’re going to do something then you’re obligated to do that thing. I believe members of my family learned something else, they learned not to commit to things because the challenges of committing are often larger than expected.