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.