In appreciation of Dad
Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children. –Proverbs 17:6
My father will be 84 in a few days. He is, simply, one of the finest men I’ve ever known. He got his degree in civil engineering from Texas A&M before it was a co-ed institution, and he worked in municipal government for most of my growing up years. He served in the US Army. He was married to my mother for 60-plus years. He has been an elder in the church for over 40 years and taught Sunday school for more than a half-century.
He has slowed down a bit over time, but he does crossword puzzles to keep his mind active and a couple times per month he still makes the three-hour round-trip to the cemetery where my mother is buried to put fresh flowers on her gravesite, three years after her death. He is known for his integrity, his generosity, his consistency, and a mischievous sense of humor.
My earliest vivid memory is three-year-old me, waking up in the back seat of our late-50’s model Buick sedan in the driveway of our home in Arlington, Texas. I had fallen asleep on a trip home from my grandparents’ house. Mama and Daddy let me sleep while they unpacked the car. When Daddy came to get me, he opened the door and I woke up, just in time to see a ball that had wedged between the seat and the door fall out of the car and roll down the driveway. I started to cry.
Daddy picked me up, soothed my hurt feelings, and carried me across the street to where the ball was resting at the opposite curb. He bent down, picked it up, and handed it to me, smiling. I carried the ball while he carried me. I felt safe and warm: My Daddy loved me and would somehow make things all right.
Looking back, that has largely been the story of my life. My father’s help and affection have never been far away. From science fair projects to throwing a spiral to what it meant to be a godly man. And later, wise counsel on request and an uncanny ability to anticipate needs and surreptitiously provide the occasional cash infusion. He’s just always been there.
Of course, the most important thing Daddy did for my brothers and me was love our Mama. He never failed to treat her with honor and care. She became his occupation after he retired. In the last fifteen years of her life, as her health declined, he became her primary caretaker, even in the later stages as she lost more and more of herself to dementia. To this day, I’ve never heard him complain. For my father, that’s just what you do when you love somebody.
As long as I can remember, Daddy hasn’t really had hobbies; he has people. A long list of people from all walks of life who call him friend and a few who get the honor of calling him Papa. He can frequently be found in cafés and coffee shops around his home in Central Texas, meeting with people, breaking bread, pouring into their lives the care and wisdom of eight decades of a life well-lived.
While I have no particular reason to believe Daddy is nearing the end of his race, I wanted to honor him while I can this Father’s Day. I wish everyone reading this could look upon their childhood and their fathers with similar fondness – it’s a huge blessing that I do not take for granted. If you were so blessed, be grateful and build on that legacy. If not, you have the opportunity to become that generational pivot point for your family. Fatherhood is important. Lead well. Love well. Blessings, y’all!