Happy Father's Day

Growing up I believed; no, I knew that I had the best dad. Dad was easy to talk to and as the father to three daughters; nothing was off limits. As a little girl I recall going with him to the old A & W drive-in to buy the big jugs of cold root beer and of course, Dairy Queen for buster bars. He was great to take shopping; he had good taste and typically only asked one question: "will you wear it?". What more could a girl ask for? I loved dad's laugh. He was a gentle man; a quiet man. He had an interesting way of responding to questions at times; especially if we were asking permission to do something when he knew that we already knew the answer.....he would just sit quietly. Eventually we'd get the idea and stop asking stupid questions. He was hard working; a good provider. When I reached college, we commuted together. On wintery days when the roads weren't great, he'd get me to drive. I'm thankful that he did that; it has served me well on many an occasion. I have one sort of "frozen in moment" time when I was very young; we lived off of Pim Hill (I think) and I can picture myself running to greet my daddy as he walked home from work.

Growing up, Dad always provided enough rope by which I could hang myself; and he was always there to cut me down, too. I believe that my dad knew most every stupid thing I did, yet he loved me anyway. My dad was the first man in my life to love me unconditionally. Aside from my husband, I don't know of a man who was, and is, as generous as my father; whether it was with his time or his money, he has always been a generous giver.

On December 26, 2002 I got a call advising that my dad had left. I was 37 years old.

The initial shock of the separation was followed by a myriad of emotions: denial, hurt; anger…..of course disappointment. I would find myself staring blankly at pictures, crying and wondering if the memories they stirred had all been a lie. My father; a man that I’d looked up to, who had been one of the biggest influences in my life......the cause of so much pain? My hurt and disappointment wanted to find a place for the blame, and in those early weeks, it rested squarely on my dad. I recall the first time he called here..... I listened and I cried; mostly I cried. I said little, but yet I felt like I'd said too much. It was a difficult time. I actually thought at one point that if I sacrificed my relationship with my father, then he would change. Yeah, that would teach him! Fortunately, I had another thought.

Unmet expectations are difficult to deal with. What do you do when the man you believed to be perfect turns out not to be?? I recall the first Father’s Day after ...... I was struggling, wondering how to honour my dad. I went to church on Father’s Day and our pastor was sharing about his own dad. He shared how he chose to see beyond his father’s faults to the good. It is always easier to see the faults in somebody else; always easier to poke the finger and tell somebody else that they need to change. The Pastor honoured his dad that day and I left with a different perspective. As I think back to that time I am thankful. I do believe that in my questioning and wondering, God opened my mind and my heart and he gave me compassion, helped me to see differently.

I realized that in terms of my relationship with dad there was really only one question I needed to answer: Was I prepared to deny myself, and my children, a relationship with him? Did I want to be so "right" that I was at risk of losing all that was good about this man? The answer to that question was simple. No matter what dad did, does or ever will do that has no bearing on who he is….my dad. The relationship we share today has been tested. It is honest and I cherish it. I respect my dad – he is a good man and I know that he will do anything within his ability for me and mine. I have watched him over my lifetime genuinely care for people. He took his brother into his home when he learned he was dying and now he helps care for his 90 year old parents so they can remain at home. I've watched him walk the floor with Rhys when he was a cranky baby, help Brad clean the basement when the sewer line had backed up (now THAT is love); he's helped me by doing a myriad of things from cleaning to painting, knowing that these things mean a lot to me. 12 years ago he put me on a plane and sent me to my husband and I am thankful that he did. Harold serves; that is what he does…..but it is also who he is.

I may disagree with my dad on some things, but there is far more that we agree on. It is my choice, my pleasure and my privilege to love you dad; I am thankful for the father that you've been; I've learned that the pictures don't lie. I honour you today for the man that you are.

Happy Father's Day, dad.