He Was No Saint

He Was Not Saint

John Paul Derryberry

My dad was no saint, but that didn't stop us from bestowing the title upon him after his untimely passing. All of a sudden, his flaws were erased from our discussions. If we had an honest conversation about the best and the parts of my father that needed improvement, it would somehow ruin his afterlife. It's not that I lack awareness about the belief that we should not speak ill of the dead. But ill doesn't mean erasing truths, and facts are facts. Of every person to walk planet earth, not a single one has been perfect. Yet we often make this mistake of granting them sainthood after they pass on.

Sainthood places people in rarified air, sitting just above the human race. It implies that what they did was ordained; it was because they were somehow wired to achieve greatness. And that is never the case. It also puts an undue burden on those left behind. I remember numerous situations where I thought I could never live up to what my father had accomplished. Nor could my mom provide the life lessons he did to set me on the correct path to success. The day we made my dad a saint is when I started chasing ghosts for too long in my life. Nothing productive has ever come from chasing ghosts, no matter the ghost we hope to catch.

See, my dad was a great father. My sister, brothers, and I have stories that confirm it. Through stories from my mom, he also was confirmed to have been a great husband. I know from work buddies that he was a great engineer. My aunt has excellent stories about how he was an amazing big brother. All these same people also have stories about how he had shortcomings, failures, and still needed to grow as a human. And his failures make his successes all the more impressive. It wasn't ordained; it wasn't predetermined. He worked through failures, overcame weaknesses, and had to reject negative thoughts to find success, just like every other human being ever to walk this planet.

As the years have passed, my dad has descended from his sainthood. He landed in a place we all should, as a human, who achieved greatness in life despite some character flaws. More importantly, realizing he wasn’t a saint allowed me to stop chasing ghosts. I have life lessons from my mom and countless others that have sunk in because there are so many fantastic people who offers sound advice. I have more than lived up to the expectations he set for me and have my list of accomplishments that he would make him proud. None of that started until I took my father down of the pedestal and viewed him through honest eyes. He was flawed, a beautiful, loving caring flawed person. I know I'm ever going to transcend into sainthood but because I found a way to play to strengths while acknowledging my weaknesses, just like dear old dad.

My dad was a great man, and if he could have passed along advice after his death, it probably would have been: "I'm no saint." So I forge ahead, knowing that sainthood is not the goal. The goal is to be the best human I can be, to make the world a better place, not for the glory of being deemed worthy, but because it's the right thing to do-- to be a guy who forges ahead attempting to make the world a better place, even though I have my own faults to work on.