My father was one of the guiding lights of my life. When I was little, I thought he could do no wrong. I really believed he could do anything, take care of everything, solve any problem, fix any worry. In short, my dad was a demi-god that I looked up to. And I had good reason. Because he did do all of those things. It is not a bad thing to believe in your father, and I certainly believed in mine.
As an adult, I have learned to look a little more closely at the man, the person behind the wizard that pulled the strings which magically made my life wonderful. It hasn't changed my opinion that my father was a nearly perfect man, although I realize other people may not share that opinion. And I know that he wasn't really perfect, not in the day to day living with him sort of way. I can see some of what he did wrong, at least as a parent, and, in fact, I tried to do some things differently because of his example.
But when you look back on life, when you see the bigger picture, your role as a parent is one of the most important things most people will ever do. It is your legacy, the final and most enduring contribution most people will make to the world. And when seen in that context, my dad was not just a success, but a tycoon.
My dad left me when I was young, but in that short time, he taught me:
- to care for those who were vulnerable.
- animals make the best companions, but they are not always predictable. You have to be willing to adjust, sometimes. Which is also a good lesson for life.
- to leave the world a better place than I found it.
- sometimes you just have to power through, no matter how hard it is.
- life is short, and you have to savor every opportunity.
- time is relative, but faith is eternal.
He taught me a lot more, but those are some of the things that left the lasting impression.
Every Christmas Eve, my dad would go up into the steeple at church and oil the bell which was rung every Sunday of my childhood. (WHY he picked the coldest of times to do this, I will never understand, but the memory remains so crystal clear in my mind, sometimes I think he knew he wouldn't have very many chances to do it with me and I would remember it better that way.) It was crisp and cold, and you could always see your breath. My fingers and toes would be numb by the time he was done, but we would always pause and look out over the scene before us.
He didn't have to say anything about his faith at that moment. His faith was built on a solid foundation, just like the church underneath us. And it would uplift me, even in the darkest, coldest moments of my life. He was right.
My dad loved people. In spite of his busy life, working at a full time job then coming home and farming, he had time for the people he loved. His nieces and nephews have a lot of fond memories with my dad, because he took the time for them. But it wasn't just his family that mattered to him.
Long after he died, I learned about a young woman who was stranded on the side of the road when my dad happened to drive by. He could have kept going. He was working, and someone else would surely have stopped soon and helped. But he stopped and helped her, and in the process, gave her a lesson in Christian love that informed her life choices going forward.
Hearing from her allowed me a new understanding of what it means to love our neighbor. How we live our life can make a difference, even if we have no idea of our influence. Many years later, someone shared with me that my own life, and how I chose to live it, made a difference for them in their life. My dad was surely smiling down at me in that moment, knowing his legacy of love for others had worked its way into my heart, as well.
My dad suffered from terrible migraine headaches, at a time when there was no cure or easy answer. He would work through them, focusing on something all consuming, accomplishing a task, to try and get through the blinding pain. I saw that no matter how difficult, you can do anything if you really have to. What a valuable life lesson to learn while watching him carry on through the debilitating condition. I have called on his example countless times in my own life, and his legacy of tenacious effort is truly alive in me today because of the standard he set.
My dad was a part time farmer, and we had a small herd of cattle. One particular cow refused to allow her calves to nurse, and their lives were threatened by her actions. He showed me, in a variety of ways, how we had to adjust and make do and make it okay for that calf in spite of everything their own mother was doing to their detriment.
He was flexible, my dad, and we never lost a calf because of the neglect of the mother cow. Life does not always work out the way we plan. There are unexpected trials and things will happen that are just outright wrong. Sometimes, we have to be resourceful, willing to change course, open to the possibility of something different if we want to succeed. I learned all this while helping my dad with the chores while a tiny calf butted me around the barn every evening trying to drink its milk replacer a little faster from the bottle I was holding.
My dad died at age 50, but he traveled the country, he showed me how to check the oil on the car, he taught me about animals and faith, and most importantly, he showed me, every single day of his life, how to love well. His time was much too short, but his shadow is long and lasting. He never missed an opportunity to spend time with me, to participate in my activities, to cheer me on, to help me, to hug me, to love me. I never once had to wonder whether my dad thought I was the best daughter, because I was shown he felt that way every single day of my life. He savored the moments with me, and I knew it. It was a powerful antidote to the long hours of grief when he wasn't there to show me any more.
My father was a faithful man. He was faithful to his wife, he was faithful to his family, he was faithful to his church, to his employer, and most importantly, to his God. He wasn't perfect, not in the usual human sense, but he was God's very special and unique creation, filled with the wonderful qualities that we remember as we look back to when he was with us.
When it comes to leaving legacies, my father filled his short years with a vast wealth of love and experience which nothing, not even the grave, can take away. I am so proud to be his daughter. I am so blessed because I had him to lose. And I am so grateful that out of all the families ever that God could have chosen for me, I got the best one of all.
Someday, I will see you in heaven. But until then, I hope you are as proud of me as I am of you. I love you, Dad.
