My dad never punched me in the arm and said, “Go get them, kid.”
That isn’t his way.
He shows it by going out and doing. He shows this, indirectly and without intention, by example. He is a fighter, and more than many. It’s inside him, in his heart. You may not think so if you looked at him today. He’s 90 years old and in a hospital for physical rehabilitation after losing the mobility in his legs, legs that have run three New York City marathons and done tai chi, qigong and other martial arts that have taken him to China. He says they feel frozen now. But he’s not giving up on them. He wasn’t a day at his first rehab center when the doctor told him to eat and rest.
“You must eat, sir,” the doctor told him.
The 90-year-old fighter responded, “I’m not here to eat, I’m here for physical therapy.”