I’ve thought about doing a tribute post for a while, and when Elisa asked me to guest post here on her blog, I knew it was just the right time to come through with a great one.

My father would have hated social media tools. He would have had no clue why I was writing about my life for the world to see, why I was posting small messages on something called Twitter, or why I wouldn’t call people instead of sending some message over the phone.

What he would have loved was the message. My father was a simple man, a mechanic for most of his life and a warehouseman after that. He loved the simple things in life. Making steaks on the grill, going for a bike ride after dinner, playing golf on a Saturday, he loved his routine.

By most standards, he lived a pretty boring life.

We didn’t do many exciting things growing up, like traveling the world, or even taking vacations for that matter. While some of my friends were off jet-setting with their parents, exploring the boundaries of the earth, my dad and I were home playing who can punch each other in the shoulder harder or lets see what other stuff we have in the garage to shoot with the BB gun.

We did a lot of ‘boring’ things, but it’s the boring things that were the subject of my best childhood memories. We would play home run derby in my backyard till all hours of the night. I’d learn how to play hockey goalie in my driveway with a pair of cut down goalie pads and a heavy winter jacket in the summer to act as the chest protector we couldn’t afford. Baseball glove in one hand, winter glove in the other I’d stand there as my father took shots as hard as he could, resembling a shooting gallery as I was pelted by tennis balls left and right.

My dad and I would go out at midnight after the rain and pick worms to take fishing whenever we got a chance. He’d come home from work, change and eat, and we’d hop on our bikes to spend hours fishing, talking and just spending time together.

Several of my friends had an exciting childhood by definition, complete with the shiniest new bike or toys, but they would jump at the chance to play touch football in the street with my dad as all time QB, with the obligatory telephone pole to telephone pole end zones. For them, the boring time was what they did not have at home, but yet what they so desperately wanted.

Failing kidneys in 1998 meant dialysis, and sitting hooked into a machine for 3 hours every other day. My dad took the time to chat up every nurse and person he could find to see how their day was going, utilizing all of that downtime to make their day brighter.

August 2nd, 1998 my father passed away from a combination of inoperable brain tumors combined with End Renal Failure (kidney failure). I was 14 and had just come off of my freshman year spent home-schooling myself between extended hospital stays, endless days filled with nothing and everything in-between. My dad loved his life, and lived it to the fullest. You may think otherwise with your trips around the world or your jaunts across the ocean, but trust me, his life was fulfilled and so was my childhood.

And even though I’ve lived abroad twice and done some pretty amazing things so far, I’d trade all of those exciting and new memories in for some boring ones, because sometimes in life it’s the boring things you miss the most.

All You Need Blogger: Ryan Knapp

Ryan Knapp is a soccer entrepreneur, passionate for using soccer as a vehicle to promote social change. He is founder of Futbolist LLC, a full service soccer company dedicated to the promotion and expansion of soccer in the United States.  Follow his journey at RyanJKnapp.com or Twitter @ryanknapp.

Song: Song For Dad – Keith Urban

Did you know I have a private newsletter that goes out ONLY to subscribers? It offers stories of travel adventures, writing brilliance, links to great content around the internet and other crazy shaningans.

Subscribe to Writing on the Webb to Receive Exclusive Updates