My Father's Son

"I know everybody thinks I'm the asshole of the school," I was saying in defense of me yelling at the kids. Even as the words came forth from my mouth I regretted them. My father (who I really am, much to my chagrin exactly alike) used to say the same thing to us three when we'd chastise him for being too harsh. Borrowing another line from Dad's phrase book I proceeded to tell my co-workers that I didn't care how I got the kids to learn, I was going to do anything it took to get them to do so. 

I'm not sure they bought it, but I always have pangs of guilt. Everyday I rewind the tape of the day in my mind. Everyday I see something I don't like. Everyday I pray to my Maker for forgiveness. Everyday I think to light the St. Jude candle. Everyday I hope to no longer be The Lost Cause. I have to work on this this summer. Being calm, and collected and being a Light for my kids.  I know that really they see so very little light. Knowing that I am my father's son, I am certain that he felt the same pangs of conscience.