How the fuck did I get here?
It's a strange moment trying to connect what seems like an infinite string of nearly-impossible events that got me where I am today. Yet somehow, I'm here. And it's not just me. We're all here due to one small miracle leading another.
There's a true story, or so I believe, about my grandfather. I only say "so I believe," because the story passed from word of mouth from my grandfather, to my Dad to me. I trust nearly everything my Dad has told me growing up, and for good reason, so I have no reason to believe that this story is untrue. That said, I have never asked to confirm the story with my grandfather as I sadly don't have the relationship with him where I would be comfortable asking him to relieve some of his most painful experiences.
That said, when he was around my age or younger my grandfather lived and worked and nearly died in a concentration camp. At one point during this nightmare, he was told to march along with hundreds of prisoners. These marches were notorious for their ability to sift through the Jews that still had their strength to work and the more sickly that would be executed as they stumbled and fell behind. Towards the end of one these marches, my grandfather fell. He was exhausted and had begun to accept what would likely be a swift termination. Instead a Nazi guard came to my grandfather and persuaded him to get up and keep going as there was only a short distance left. Now I don't know what it was that re-motivated my grandfather to get up, or even why the Nazi guard would persuade him to, but he did. And from those small miracles, my family is here today.
So on this Father's day, we should not only be appreciative for what our Father's have done, but what all the Father's (and Mother's) before us have done, whether or not we understand what it was or even know why it happened.