Happy Father's Day

Okay, it's been a while...again. And once again, it's taken a holiday to get my attention back on my blog. My wife and I took my mom and Dad to lunch today to stay ahead of the madding crowd tomorrow. This is of strategic importance because they are elderly (Dad is 90, soon to turn 91 and Mom is 86) and my mom is none to mobile and is legally blind, so crowded restaurants become dangerous places for her to negotiate.

Anyway, we took them to Red Lobster and it's funny. I could have ordered for them. They don't even look at the menu any more. We all know exactly what they are going to order. Me, I like to try new things so I always look at the menu. As it happens, I was the only one in the foursome today who didn't walk into that restaurant knowing exactly what I wanted to eat. I just knew I wanted seafood. By the way, Salmon New Orleans is really worth a try next time you go in. If you like spicy seafood. Way good! But enough on that.

I want to take a moment and pay tribute to the man I call Dad. My dad is a special man for a whole lot of different reasons, so I won't go into the whole list here, but I feel it's only right to honor him today. You see, Dad isn't perfect. Never was. We had some rough times growing up. He worked rotating shifts so I really only saw him about one week a month during regular hours. During 'graveyard' shift (working 12:00-8:00, not in a cemetery) he slept during daylight hours so I was mostly encouraged to go play with friends from the end of school until supper time. He had a short fuse, a violent temper, and could be verbally abusive when irritated. But he was, and is, an intensely loyal and devoted husband and father. He acted out his love and commitment for us every day even though the words, "I love you," were rarely heard spoken to us. As hard as he could be on us, he was always 100% honest. When he gave his word to do something, it got done. Honesty and integrity...love in action.

My dad never really understood me. He grew up during the depression on a small farm with a big family. The livestock and crops they raised were their food supply. I, on the other hand, grew up in town. I tended toward very diverse interests like music (band and choir), drama, sports and the like. Dad grew up working and feels somewhat 'useless' if he's not doing something constructive. To this day he putters around in his huge yard, carefully nurturing his almost perfect grass. I like to play. But as little as he understood about what made me tick, he and mom came to every game and match, every concert and play they could possibly attend. Even after college, when I was doing community theatre, they would come into Richland and watch the show. Loyalty...love in action.

I grew up watching my dad give generously to others and never asking anything in return. He was the first guy to volunteer when things broke or needed tending to at the church. He gave generously to all of us kids in times of need and to his grandchildren. He's been particularly generous and supportive of my son, for which I am eternally grateful. Dad is a great example of what giving is all about. He freely gives with a cheerful heart, always looking out for the needs of others, even at great cost to himself and his own desires. Generosity....love in action.

Mom and Dad met as youngsters, growing up in the same small town in Oklahoma (Ft. Gibson). Mom was 18, Dad was 22 when they were married in a civil ceremony. February 2 of this year, they celebrated having been married 68 years. Many, many lean times followed. They moved from the only place they'd known, a serene forested part of southeast Oklahoma, to a desert (semi-arid to be technically accurate) area in the southeast of the "Evergreen" state. (In our part of Washington the state's slogan could be taken to mean, "Does it ever get green here?"). One of my dad's relatives scoffed at the idea of anyone from the family moving out of Oklahoma and actually staying moved. He made the statement at a family gathering that they would never be able to cut it. He'd bet they'd be back in less than a year.

Well, our family's fate was sealed in that moment. Dad made up his mind he would never come back to Oklahoma to live. He made a commitment to a new life no matter how hard it was going to be. Through all the dust storms (called "Termination Winds" because so many people would quit and leave the area after a storm blew through), the tough times and urging of relatives to give it up and come back, they stuck it out here.

That kind of stubbornness can be hard on a marriage. Mom and Dad had their share of arguments to be sure, but there was never a question of one of them leaving. They made vows and they stuck to them. They made a commitment to each other and made the best of the circumstances. Commitment...love in action.

There is so much more, but I must close. Suffice to say, that no matter how many, or what kind of, disagreements I've had with my dad through the years I can say with complete integrity that I love Dad with all my heart. I admire and respect him as much for his weaknesses as his strengths. He's not blind to his weaknesses, nor to his strengths. You'll never hear him boast, though you'll often hear him poke fun of his own foibles. He is a man of integrity, honesty, loyalty, generosity, and commitment. He loves God and serves selflessly. My dad isn't famous or rich or anyone important to the big, wide, world, but he's a great man to me, and in the eyes of his family.