Where have all the men gone?

Today is my Father's 60th Father's Day and it has me thinking about how fathers have changed during my lifetime.

My father took his first job when he was 11 delivering groceries for Mr. Poore. He made 10-cents an hour and all deliveries were made on foot. Did I mention that he walked the three miles to and from work after school everyday? No wonder he was 145-pounds at 6'5". He kept a dollar for himself and the rest he gave to his Mother. He also helped her in the garden, hand dug her well, painted her house, and made all the household repairs until he left for the Army.

His Army service was in Germany after the war as a civil engineer specialist. While there, he met a gypsy who read his palm. He'd marry a red-headed nurse, have four children, and be very successful in life. She was right.

Returning home from Germany, he discovered his mother had given all his clothes to his eldest brother who was in seminary. All his pay had gone to support that brother and his next eldest who was in college. He took his first job as a salesman wearing his Army uniform for the first week until he got paid. And, he abandoned his dream of engineering school as his money was all gone.

The year I was four my Mother had cancer and my brother died. Her bills alone were over $5000. Daddy only earned $5500. He raised a garden, cooked for us, cared for us, and buried my brother with money he earned working and from extra jobs around our community. He took no handouts and probably no one knew how tough things were. 

Now, 60 years later, he still works every day.

He still calls my Mother "Baby" and hands her his wallet when she is leaving home for anything and says, "Do you have any money, baby? Take whatever you need. Is it enough?"

He worries about his children and grandchildren, but won't call. Instead, he has Mother call, who says, "Your Father is worried because you haven't called in two days. Is everything okay? Need anything?"

He flies a flag every day in honor of his grandson and wife. He is proud of their service and tells everyone that his two grandchildren proudly serve in the U.S. Air Force. He had a sign painted that hangs on his barn that declares, "My Grandson and Granddaughter Proudly Serve in the U.S. Air Force" along with an Air Force flag.

He sings in church, serves on committees, and is honored to have been a deacon for 60 years. 

He carefully checks the church bulletin for prayer needs and sends cards, money, or visits every one on the list over the course of the week. He always takes fresh eggs or produce to each shut-in he visits because he believes that blessings multiply.

Lest you think he is a saint, he also taught me to swear while plumbing, how to fight injustice or just 'cause I believe I am right, and to tell bawdy jokes whenever I can. He taught me to stand taller than I am to be sure I am never pushed around, stand up for myself, and never, ever, ever, let a man dominate me.

So, to me, this is what a man and father is. He is brave, tender, hard-working, devoted, supportive, generous, considerate, loving, and proud. He stands up and takes responsibility. He has become sadly missing in today's society. Where have all the men gone?

Ten Things He Taught Me

Father's day is Sunday. Since this weekend looms as one of those kinds of weekends where I will wake up Monday and say, "Where the heck did it go??" I want to share the ten things I learned from my Daddy in honor of Father's Day.

10. Don't believe everything. When the doctor tells you that you have six months to live, don't believe him. When the doctor dies, go to his funeral and send flowers. Do this for at least 25 years.

9. Work hard. If a person is paying you $5 an hour, still work as though you are earning $25 an hour. Soon, you will.

8. Love. Never tell your children you love them, but show them everyday by asking their Mother to call and make sure they are okay or to give the latest weather report.

7. Stick with it. When one way doesn't work, stand back, say a few choice words, and then try another way. Chances are there is more than one way to do something.

6. Use a hammer. When repairing something, a hammer will always work. Even if you smash it to little bits, it is taken care of and out of the way.

5. Own a tractor. On a tractor one cannot hear any complaining, whining, or useless talking. And, when the woman is crying over the fact that there are still tomatoes in the garden, you can take your tractor and plow and turn them over. Problem solved and no hammer needed.

4. Make a list. When the above mentioned wife says, "You need to do..." the best response is, "It is on the list." Somehow that makes it appear that you are actually going to do it.

3. Eat frequently. You never know when you might get another chance. I think that says it all.

2. Take a nap. Whenever you sit down, take the time to snooze for five minutes or ten or fifteen...

1. Love life. Laugh. Love. Believe. Enjoy. No matter what happens, philosophically remind everyone nearby that things work out as they should. And believe it! There is no use in saying, "If only..."

My Daddy is one remarkable man. He has created a very full and successful life from simple beginnings to great success -- not just monetary success, but accomplishments as well. My earliest memories of him are of his very long legs (he has a 36" in seam) stretching to nearly the sky as he bent down to pick me up to put me on the top of the refrigerator so I would be out of the way as he and Mother cooked dinner. It was the only time in my life I could see the top of his head.

He took us fishing, hunting, gardening, and to church. He spanked us when we needed it and loved us after he did. He has high standards, but they are no higher for us than for himself. I am very proud of my Daddy.

Happy father's day, George!

Happy Father's Day!

Maybe it is a Southern thing. I don't know. No matter how old we become, our fathers are still "Daddy." I think it is rather endearing to hear an adult child call their father that, but then, I am prejudiced because I can only think of my own father that way.

We are double gifted this year to have Daddy with us. In the last two weeks we have come to face the reality that we only have those we love for a finite period. While Daddy got home on Thursday, he is far from himself. However, he is happy. Eating. Laughing. Fussing. Snoozing. Planning. All the things that make my Daddy special.

As we left his ICU room on one particularly tough day, my Sissie and I talked about how we would miss him when he goes. He is the person we call when we need to know how large a room is because he can remember how to calculate square footage. Need paint? Call Daddy, tell him the room dimensions, and he can tell you how much you need within one-half pint. Car sounds weird? Make the noise and he will diagnose it instantly. Want to hear a naughty joke? He has a lifetime of them to share a giggle.

We started this journey of heart and lung issues more than 25 years ago. At that time, his doctor told him to go home and make his plans. Daddy has outlived him by 15 years. Since that time, we have every birthday, holiday, and special or not-so-special moments with him. Sometimes we visit and work. Or we will sit and drink coffee and eat one of Mother's always present cakes. Regardless the situation, we eat. And eat. And eat.

As a child of the depression, my Daddy learned the value of hard work, saving, and sharing with others. Coming home from his military duty, he owned two dress uniforms, two BTUs, and himself. He had $42 and a fiance'. He and Mother worked hard and we never knew a moment of hunger or want.

His greatest delight is that he is now comfortable enough financially that he can give to those he believes needs it and will be a good steward. The list is long of the folks he has helped in some way and I doubt we will ever know the full measure. Long ago, he worked for Mr. Stuart who taught him that the best gifts are those we give anonymously and so he practices that.

He has taught me to stand for what I believe in, to be patriotic, to work hard, to dream and to love feriously. We have fought hard, worked hard, and, most of all, loved hard. I am proud to call him "Daddy."