Seven years ago today my father died. It is strange to me
that I seem to think about him more now than ever before.
My dad was a good Dad. I loved him and I thank God that I
had him for a Dad. There was always a certain disconnect between us – what was
most important to me, was not to him. (My Dad was not a Christian.) But this
chasm shrunk as I got older and we had more of life in common. I look around at
what some folks have to deal with for fathers today and I realize how
remarkably peaceful and happy was my childhood.
Yesterday I started thinking about things my Dad did well.
It began to turn into a long list. Here are a few of them. Maybe it will
encourage all of us dads to do a little better in some of the little things
that end up meaning so much.
1. He cheered at my hockey
games
I cannot recall a single instance of my Dad “coaching from
the stands” or being upset when my team lost. My dad was simply a big fan. He
would bring a vuvuzela to the games
(yes, they existed way back then), rattles, whatever was noisy and he would
cheer us on. It was a tad embarrassing and, of course, when you are 12 years
old that is all you are thinking about. Except for that little part in the back
of your brain that smiles when you realize your
dad is the one everybody likes. We all watched with horror when Cam’s dad came
into the dressing room and criticized his son down for blowing a breakaway. But
everybody smiled when my dad bought a round of orange pop for the team post
game. My dad was a great fan.
2. He came on my scout
camps
Now that my son and I go on camping trips, I realize how
much my dad loved me! And I have an air mattress. My dad often joined in trips
full of dirty boys and bad food. He was not what you would call a “natural
camper,” but he was there.
When you have parents like mine, you just grow up expecting
that they will be the ones to volunteer for stuff and so you expect them to be
there. I see now how wonderful it was to have a Dad who was There.
3. He was home for
dinner
Dad was always a busy guy running his own business and being
involved in things like Rotary and industry organizations, but he rarely missed
dinner. I lived in that golden age when you could set your clock to my dad’s
evening arrival. At 5:55 I would often go to the front window and wait for the
flower truck to lumber up my street. In the summer, I would wait for him at the
corner and he would let me “drive” home.
And when we got home he would wash up and we would all eat together.
That was so normal to me I was completely blown away when I started to meet people
who had never shared a meal as a family. In our family, that happened almost
every night of the week.
4. He played the organ
Ours was a musical household. Dad had a great old organ and
would often go straight from the dinner table to it. There were lots of
classics to be played and even a few Beetles tunes. To this day I will
recognize a melody somewhere and have no idea what is the title of the song. My
dad had a band with a Benny the sax man, Gilly the drummer, Merrit the fiddler
and a few other fellows that were in and out depending on their gig. Those gigs
were never any great money-making deal – just a bunch of friends who loved
music and enjoyed playing together.
My favorite though, was when Gilly decided to leave his
drums at our house so he didn’t have to haul them back and forth anymore. That
led to years of me and dad playing together. And if you have heard me drum, you
will better understand his great patience.
5. He wrestled with
us
It wasn’t uncommon for the jam session to end with my dad
chasing me or somebody else around the house. We had one of those good chasing
houses – multiple escape routes on one floor. I wonder now, however, if we ever
really wanted to get away. The fun
was in getting caught and trying to get past those gangly arms that seemed to be
always everywhere.
I remember when I finally got big enough to get around those
arms and he told me we needed to be done wrestling. I felt kind of proud and
miserable all at the same moment. Happy I had conquered the giant, but
miserable the fight was over. I loved wrestling my dad.
6. He came to “Father
and Son” stuff
Both my scout troop and my hockey league would have a Father
and Son banquet every year. I recall one year that my dad could not make it to
a hockey banquet. That was the year I learned how great it was to have a dad
sitting beside you and smiling back at you when you got your PARTICIPANT
ribbon. In my day, only the winners got the trophies.
I played hockey for years and never won a championship. The
one year I was put on a team that looked like it was going to win, I got
traded. All those years, all that cheering, all those PARTICIPANT banquets. My
dad was there.
7. He let me go my way
My dad’s father passed away when he was about 19. That meant
he had to quit college and come back to Toronto to run the family business,
which he did until his retirement. My sister owns that business now and is
doing a great job. I started working at the flower shop, oh, I don’t know, about
7 seconds after I was born. Well, that is the way it felt. It was just part of
our lives.
I grew up with my dad talking about the industry, giving me
different work experiences, and sharing where he thought things needed to go. I
cannot recall him ever saying it, but I always felt from him an expectation
that I would follow in his steps.
Once I was convinced of my call to pastoral ministry, the
conversation I dreaded most was with my dad. There is no question it was
difficult for him. He saw little “future” in that career choice. He was mostly
against it.
But he didn’t try to take over my life. I see now God’s
great mercy to me in that. As disappointed as he might have been, he said his
peace and I went on in my training. He even flew out to California for my
college graduation.
It was never a particularly easy topic for us to discuss,
but over the years I think we both made peace with it. I am glad my dad let me
go where I believe God was calling me. He even let our church meet in his home
for a season. And we ended up living there for 13 months when we planted Grace
Fellowship Church.
He may not have supported the idea of me being a pastor, but
he supported me.
8. He loved my kids
Well, this one makes me cry. My dad was a fantastic
grandfather. He thoroughly enjoyed his grandkids and they thoroughly enjoyed
him. Granddad would do all the same things he did with us, only with his
grandkids. So, there was lots of chasing, lots of music and lots of fun. My
kids would bounce with delight when they got to see Nana and Granddad.
It is hard to describe how much it means to a parent to have
your own parents love and enjoy your kids. There is a fullness and rightness to
it all.
It was not many years after we decided to name our son after
his grandfathers, that dad got sick. I think that gave Will and dad a special
bond with each other. It was amazing to see how effectively a little boy could
cheer up a sick man. I am so glad my son got time with my dad.
9. He gave me
responsibility
When I was something like 10 years old, we had a church
group visiting our cottage. They ran into boat problems, so my dad and I took
the “big boat” out to perform the rescue. Dad jumped into the little boat, got
the old outboard engine running and took off for home before she conked out on
him. The folks in the “big boat” had no idea what to do, so I did what I always
did – got in the driver’s seat (on a few lifejackets so I could see over the
deck). I drove everyone home nice and safe and about that time my mom realized
what had happened. You can ask her the rest of the story!
Whether it was on the boat or in business, my dad would give
me responsibility. Once he told me to bring my friend Robbie down to the shop
and he would set us up with a fresh flower stand. I had to “buy” the flowers on
credit, sell what I could, pay him off and keep the difference. It was a good
lesson in business… and mob intimidation! The local king of the street where we
were selling our wares kicked us out forthwith. Like the time he had me selling Vexar nylon
bags at a flower auction and I got kicked off the property or selling… well,
it’s a long list of selling things and getting kicked off our out of somewhere.
Needless to say, I learned some life lessons. Like how to hide from
authorities!
10. He loved my mom
Here is my basic childhood memory. Dad leaves in the
morning, he kisses mom goodbye. Dad gets back at night, he kisses mom hello.
Repeat.
I used to think it was less than stellar that I never saw my
parents fight. Now I realize how privileged I was. They had their things to
deal with like any married couple, but it never crossed my mind that they might
not love each other.
That let’s a boy grow up with lots of confidence and little
worry.
11. He had fun with me
Every year dad and I would go on a boat trip somewhere on
Georgian Bay. Just the two of us, a cooler of food and a lot of charts. I have
thousands of memories from these trips. Some fun and some terrifying! But all
memorable.
As soon as I turned 16 my dad realized a lifelong dream and
signed us up for scuba diving lessons. Once per week we were in the pool and
class. The day finally came for our open water test and dad didn’t pass. It was
a rather scary incident, but after that experience he was done with scuba. So
was I. It wasn’t any fun without him.
12. He never spoke ill of
his father
My dad’s father was an alcoholic, which led in part to his
early death. I know almost nothing about the man, but I keep a picture of him
in my office. A solemn reminder that, but for the grace of God, there go I.
A different look came over my dad when he talked about his
father. It is not that he had nothing good to say about the man, but more like
he had little good to say about him and therefore chose to not say much at all.
A lot of this is speculation on my part. When my dad was dying from cancer I
asked him a couple of times about his father. I wanted to know. But he chose to
not tell. I think now, that spoke to my dad’s character.
13. He honoured and cared
for his mother
Like I said, my dad had to quit school and come home to run
the family flower shop after his dad died. By the time I was on the scene, his
mother was retired and frail. She lived in the apartment over the top of the
store and dad would go there every day for lunch. Some of those lunches were
epic, like the time she made grilled cheese with the plastic wrappers left on
the cheese slices or mistook cat food for the tuna can. But that didn’t stop my
folks from caring for Grandma.
My dad gave his mom most of the credit for keeping the
business afloat in those hard days after her husband’s early death. The world
was not used to a woman business owner, so she would coach my dad from the
sidelines and help him with all the financial decisions. They made a good team.
And I cannot recall a single time he spoke ill of her. He
taught me how to honour my parents by his strong example.
My dad was not perfect. But he was a good dad.
I thank God that He gave him to me.
