"We talked about Jesus"

The Mrs. The Third recently asked me for a single word to describe our second oldest daughter. I thought a while and I came up with perseverance.



Near the end of the Prodigals eighth grade year she informed us that she was planning on trying out for the local high school's drill (dance) team. She had little if any prior dancing instructions. She had played a few years on the local girl softball teams. She was never very talented. I say that not as a father but as one of her coaches. She was awkward and clumsy. Yet she was intent on trying out for the team. Each day for two weeks I would drive her to practice for the tryouts. She would dance around in our small house and we would constantly tell her she was going to break something if she did not stop. I picked her up each day in front of the high school and on the final Friday (the day she actually she tried out) I picked her up as well. I asked her how she did and she said she thinks she did ok. Later that evening the names of the persons selected for the team would be posted on the front door of the high school and we were planning on returning to see the results. We drove around town for about 2 hours.

When we returned, the parking lot was full. We waited for a short while and then the list was posted. Nearly 100 teen aged girls (including the Prodigal, ran to the door hoping to see their name on the list. I sat in silence of my car as several girls would run up to the door, see their name and begin jumping and squealing in glee. As my daughter looked on the list she simply turned and began walking towards my car. I kept looking at her trying to determine if the news was good or bad. Her expression never changed.



As she closed the door she looked at me and said. "Nope, I did not make it" Then she collapsed into my arms and began sobbing. She never saw my face but I was crying too. At first I was disappointed and then I became angry and then I realized that she really was unprepared as I had first thought. Our ride home,was quiet.



A few days later she was dancing and doing her moves again. I kept telling her that she had to accept she did not make the team and move on, yet she persisted.

The next year she signed up for dance class as a freshman. In November of that year, a special tryout was held for the dance team and my daughter tried out once again. This time she made it. Over the next three years there never was another mid year tryout. I am certain that the instructor watched the Prodigal and saw her never stop attitude and gave her another chance.



The drill team would dance at each football game. We attended each game for three full seasons. I never missed a single one, both home and away. Before they would dance they would introduce the officers and then finally the "Dancer of the The Week" Although The Prodigal would be an officer for the last two years and her name would be called, she was never Dancer of the Week.
I would joke with her that I would like to think that she would get that honor sooner or later. She acted as if it was no big deal but deep down I realize she did care.

We attended a few of her dance contests. Going to those events was like watching paint dry. They began early in the morning and usually did not finish till late at night. We also went to the team's annual "Spring Show". I recall the last one she participated in. She was expecting her biological father to attend. He had promised that he would. During the intermission we all were milling around in the lobby of the school auditorium. She was searching for him and she quickly realized that once again he did not show up as he had promised. She began to openly cry and her fellow team mates were trying to console her. Once again she cried on my shoulder and once again I cried with her.

A few weeks later we attended the end of the year banquet of the Dance Team. Parents were always invited to such events but by tradition, only the parents of Seniors actually ever attended. Like the dance competitions. they were pretty boring. During the banquet several awards were handed out. We sat there and politely listened as girls names were called for numerous awards and distinctions. Once again our daughter's name was not mentioned. That is until the last award was announced. It was the the big one "Charm of the Year" Whoo Hoo !!!

Now I realize that my blogs have gone in a lot of directions. Yes this is still a beer blog (sort of).

I have been blessed to know several inspirational people in my life. I have written about a few. I have been so lucky to have had as many good friends to guide me and continue to be role models for me. When my children were younger each of them would ask who was my favorite. I would always pick one but never the one who asked me (of course). Any parent will confirm that you really can not pick between those you love. But of all the people I have ever known, my second oldest daughter inspires me the most. Yes she is still awkward, clumsy, hardheaded and stubborn. (just like her mother). But damn she can persevere. I never have told her that and I guess this blog at least confirms it, even though she may actually never read it. It seems she thinks I never mention her in my writings and she is not that interested in the beers I discuss. Perhaps she just need to learn how to read "between the lines". Oh well....


The Prodigal is the only daughter I have that actually drinks beer ......even if it is Miller Lite.


"There's an app for that..."

The Third