What My Father Taught Me

My father is a good father. He has lived his life honorably. Not every one is as lucky as I have been. I am cognizant of that fact. Today I want to honor my father by remarking on his life and what he means to me.

We lived on a farm. There were many opportunities to learn the meaning of work and how to do an acceptable job. The expectation of what Dad wanted was known to us children, and we worked hard to meet it. Everyone worked in our family. Farming life involves the whole family. No one was a slacker. Slacking off was inconceivable to us. I didn’t resent farm work, but I did enjoy the winters when there wasn’t so much to do.

Long ago my sister Lois related a story to me. A professor had just asked a provocative question. “What if you were slated to die when someone stepped in and offered to die in your place. Who would that person be?” She thought about who would be willing to die in her place, when the answer came to her. She knew that Dad would die in her place. That was saying a lot, and I’ve never forgotten it.

Something in my father changed when we lost Lois. Dad became softer, more expressive and demonstrative. Being demonstrative had not been the way of my parents. After that, Dad greeted me with a hug, and hugged me whenever I had to leave. He and Mother would stand outside and wave at me as I drove away (as they did with all their family). Dad still does this. He walks me out of his apartment and down the hall. He hugs me outside and then waits until I’m in my car. As I drive away, I wave at him and he at me. Residents and staff have remarked about it. It sets Dad apart, and it is a blessing me.

My father taught me how —

  • to ride a bicycle,
  • to drive a tractor at age 9,
  • to work hard and do well,
  • to think for myself,
  • to treat people right,
  • to tell the truth,
  • to do my best,
  • to save money,
  • to love my neighbor,
  • to honor God.
  • and to live honorably

Dad, thank you for blessing me.

Dad and Mom with their great grandson (my grandson) at Christmastime, 2010.

Life is different for Dad today.

We all interact according to what we can do.

Juanita, my sister from Idaho, calls Dad often. They talk about family and they read scripture together and talk about it. Dad reads a portion, and she reads a portion.

Marilyn, my sister from Washington, frequently calls Dad (my sisters alternate). Dad and she talk about places, people, and things in his history plus family, farming, and machinery.

Paul, my brother from near Red Bluff, almost an hour away, visits Dad weekly. He takes Dad out for a drive to places Dad enjoys. Sometimes they eat at In-N-Out, which Dad loves.

I, Norma, live a mile from Dad. I visit him a few times a week and take him to most of his appointments and take care of the daily stuff.

Of course, there are other things we graciously do for our father.

Father’s Day

Father’s Day is a day to recognize our fathers for the gifts they are and the gifts they bring/brought to our lives. My father is a blessing.

Dad will come over for a meal on Father’s Day. I will have the opportunity to bless him and say thanks.

To all fathers, may you have a blessed Father’s Day.

. . .

A few recent pictures of Dad with my family that I think you will enjoy.

A pre-pandemic visit with Son 3.
Daughter 1 and children at Dad’s place, 2019.
We’re at the sprint car races for Dad’s 90th birthday. It was sweet when the announcer said that a Ray Brumbaugh was celebrating his 90th birthday by going to the races. Dad stood up and took a bow while the fans clapped.
Dad and my brother, 2020.
Daughter 2, Son 2, and Son 1 social distancing in the courtyard (the only way we were allowed to visit Dad) while talking with Grandpa and Uncle Paul.
Dad, Paul, and me.
Dad checking out the tree’s skinned bark. Always the consummate farmer.

Resurrection & Life

One lone daffodil blooms in my yard. Bright yellow tulips will soon follow as they gloriously lift their heads in spring’s emergence. Just weeks ago the honeyed scent of almond blossoms marked its beginning. Newness is here, again.

The spring season unfolds as plants awaken to living and growing. We observe its miracle. The refrain is as familiar as it is repetitive. We’re living it too. We are born, grow, learn, and produce. Then all too soon we are looking back instead of forward.

We marvel at the miraculous. Cycles come and go – and we come and go with them. Life hails from beginnings to endings. Employment starts, then ends. We stretch to achieve, then ride the wave. We try new things, then leave them behind. We plant, grow, and harvest, in season and out.

Easter tells of a holy resurrection that happened during the season of new beginnings and fresh starts. Jesus came, lived, taught, and died. Everyone was talking about it. But the grave could not hold Him. Jesus Christ arose to life, victorious over death.

In the little things we see the big things. How fruit matures after a season of growing is like how a person overcomes and then reawakens. Everyone overcomes. This includes those difficult parts we seldom talk about. Life cycles in a form of death and then rebirth.

Jesus went from death to life that we might have life in Him, which is why we sorrow, then celebrate. His death, then life. Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” If there were not life in Christ, what good would the way and truth be? Life in Christ is the essence of the resurrection.

Christ gives hope in the hard times, help in the uncertain times, and love in the dark times. We emerge stronger in our beings having gone through the valley experience.

My friend lost her home in the Camp Fire, but she has gone on to experience community in another place. God has helped her with this unwelcome, unforeseeable journey. She rebirthed physically. She is also a child of God. She is born again spiritually.

Lives are made joyous through the living Lord. Wait for the resurrection from loss to life during troublesome times. Live the resurrection life. Rejoice. Sing the Easter song.

Happy Resurrection Day!