Living “Like a Boss”

If my Dad were alive today, I would buy him a “like a boss” shirt. I can see him putting it on with a big smirk on his face and joking his way through the streets as he proudly displayed his new gift.

The phrase “like a boss” definitely describes to how he did life. It’s not just because he was an administrator in his thirty-five-year profession that the saying fit him to a T.

But we can start there. He principaled like a boss. That’s because he was the type of principal that everyone could relate to-teachers, parents, and even students.

When it came to his students, he approached his job with the perfect balance of discipline and fun.

When it came to parents, he provided them the guidance an educator should and was accountable, approachable, and reachable.

When it came to the teachers, he was not only understanding and supportive, he lead his school as a team. Everyone brought something to the table, not one person was better than another, everyone was appreciated, and everyone worked together-especially him.

He principaled like a boss.

He husbanded like a boss too. I’ve always admired my parents’ relationship. Their love was evident. Their relationship was 50/50. And they ALWAYS made time for good old fashioned fun and lots of laughs.

My Dad husbanded like a boss.

And, man did my Dad father like a boss! He had expectations of me. He had rules. He molded me to be a decent human being. But he was also spontaneous. We made great memories. We laughed until we cried. He was always the master schemer behind our mischievous adventures. But, most importantly, we never left each other’s company, ended a phone conversation, or went to bed without an “I love you.”

My Dad fathered like a boss.

Despite the fact that I just painted a picture of perfection, it was the fact that my Dad failed like a boss that left the most lasting impression on my life. He was never one to hide his faults. He always owned his mistakes. And he was never embarrassed when he slipped up in life. But when he did falter or disappoint, he learned from it and used it to make him a better, stronger person.

My Dad even failed like a boss.

As a human being just trying to make it in this world, my Dad left me a great gift in our time together.

He taught me how to be human by showing me that humans aren’t perfect.

He showed me his imperfections and his flaws because he knew I would have them, too.

He taught me to appreciate my failures because he knew they would make me stronger and better, too.

He talked about his mistakes in life because he knew I would make mistakes, too.

My Dad did life like a boss. Although he wasn’t perfect, he was perfectly himself. Whether you met him in the classroom, on the street, or at home, you always got the same man. And that’s what allowed him to leave a legacy that hasn’t been forgotten.

I guess you can say my Dad didn’t just do life like a boss.

He did life like a legend.

It’s nice to see my son learning from my Dad. He was a greatest teacher I’ve ever known.

And although he may be gone physically, legends never die.