Who I am

When I was 10 years old, my father passed away from cancer. This, along with many other things, has taught me many lessons which influence who I am now.

From what I hear, my father was the black sheep of the family. Growing up in a family of four brothers, a Baptist pastor for a father, and a southern, Kentucky-raised farm girl as a mother, my father had his work cut out for him. From what I understand, things were fairly normal in the Darby family throughout their lives. However, once my father experienced an injury while playing football during his senior year of high school, things changed. Experimenting with drugs, turning to alcohol, smoking cigarettes, my father was your stereotypical high school goody-goody who turned bad. Except, he didn't. At least not completely. He stuck it out and finished school. He attended Carson-Newman College, a small, baptist college in my hometown of Jefferson City (and actually his as well). Getting his degree in English, he didn't really have a plan for what he wanted to do, outside of teaching. He had always worked with his hands, working construction and carpentry jobs while he was growing up. So, he and his brother worked for years, bouncing around from construction job to construction job. Of course, the drugs continued and the title of "black sheep of the family" still stuck. At times, it got bad. Really bad. Still, he continued working and traveling and, what eventually seemed like, growing up.

Eventually, he ended up in Charlotte, NC. There, he landed a job teaching wood shop and English at a suburban middle school. This is where he met my mother. Long story short: my mother and father ended up dating and eventually getting married, having me not too much later. Meanwhile, all the bad things about my father held true: the drugs, the alcohol, you name it. Still, my father remained a devout Christian, a father to me, and a husband to my mother. Yes, there were problems, obviously. No one is perfect. However, when he passed away, it forced me to grow up fairly quickly. I wasn't afforded the 30+ year childhood my father seemed to have lived.

Despite all of the bad, I learned a lot of good from my dad. Unfortunately, most of the learning occurred posthumously. From hearing all of the stories about him, I've learned that making mistakes or even doing bad things does not make you a bad person. Redemption is never too late for anyone; my dad gave up smoking, drinking, and everything else as soon as he was diagnosed with cancer. My mother said those times were some of the best times spent with my father because he was actually himself. I've learned that hard work pays off. My father worked hard (albeit he played hard as well) throughout his life and ended up with a relatively great life: a healthy child, wonderful wife, two dogs, and a picket fence. And lastly, from my father, I learned that life is short. Life is too short. It's too short to sit around and do nothing and not enjoy life while it's here. For this reason, I like to think I've taken advantage of everything life has afforded me and plan to continue to do so. I'm not a fan of waste. Waste of time, waste of breath, waste of food; it's all the same to me. I like to seize the day and make the most of what I've got.

While most people think growing up without a father is a horrible thing (and I typically agree), I think it's had a positive overall effect on my life. It's made me grow up a lot faster than I normally would have and has taught me many things that shape who I am today. I would not be the same person today if it were not for what I've experienced. For that reason, my father passing away almost defines me. It has molded me into the person I am today. That's why his story is so important to me.