My father
My father had given me so much, in so many ways, and at this moment I
also wanted to give something that I had to him. How about the 100-meter
gold medal? It was the highest achievement that I got in my athletic. It is
also the one thing I could give him to represent all the good things we did
together, all the positive things that had happened to me because of him.
I had never before taken any of my medals out of the bank vault where I
usually kept them. But that day, on the way to the airport, I stopped at the
bank to get the medal, and carefully I put it in the pocket of my suit jacket. I
decided to take it to New Jersey, my home - for Dad.
The day of the funeral, when our family was viewing the body for the last
time, I pulled out the medal and respectfully placed in my father’s hand. My
mother asked me if I was sure I wanted to bury the medal, and I was. It
would be my father’s as I was going to be with him forever. “But I’m going
to get another one,” I told my mother. Turning to my father, I said, “Don’t
worry. I’m going to get another one.” That was a promise - to myself and to
Dad as well. He was lying there so peacefully, his hands resting on his chest
in release. When I placed the medal in his hand, it neatly fit perfectly.
Yes, it really belonged to my father from that day on.
- Carl Lewis
The more we give of anything, the more we shall get back.
- Grace Speare
Cha tôi
