Dying Father

There was this boy who thought himself a man. I tell this story not to encourage and neither to enrage. I am a man of peace until a line is crossed where I feel infiltrated by an ideology not mine. I will defend my place even if it be founded on the blood of the innocent, for that I am fairly ashamed, but I will defend my place:

This boy (my boy) was yet to become what we call a 'man'.

"What makes a man", he asked his father".
He (that's me) did not have an immediate answer for the curious lad who thought to become a man.
"My boy, my boy, my boy...", as I responded in time, "...a man, a man is more than himself".
"Himself?", he wondered.
As a father I gave my timely response:
"More than himself is a man that lives past the expectations of others. A man does not believe in the American Dream, but a man attempts to be responsible for his production. A man is more than himself when he comes inside with bloody hands from work and toil and then can still hold his child as though his hands were of silk. A man is also the mother, sister, daughter and wife...all the roles expected for others. A man more than himself does not feel the tread of others. A man, a true man, raises a fist in the defense of others. He does not wait for things to change but is the catalyst. A man concerns himself with his locale which extends to wherever life is found. Care about life my boy, care about death as well; do not abandon the balance.
Finally a man does not hold himself to 'just a man', my boy. My boy, a man can be a woman and a woman a man. A man is more than himself when he puts aside the expectations of all to live in equality with the others, for none can own another."
"Do you understand this my boy?", was my question.
The son turned with deep eyes to his dying father and said, "Dear Father, I think myself a man." "I suppose that you are...", were the last whispers of a dying father.