To father a child is not the same as to serve the role of a Dad. My respect for the love, caring and extraordinary effort that it takes to perform the duties of a Dad grows each day.
My own father rose early every morning and labored hard to bring home enough pay to keep food on the table for a large family. When not at his place of employment, he struggled to keep our car functioning, often with what seemed like bubble gum and bandaids. In the silence of his mind, he worried about unpaid bills, the rearing of his many offsprings and the health of his aging parents and in-laws.
There was no time to dwell upon unfulfilled dreams. A few dollars left at the end of a paycheck meant he could buy a bag of apples or watermelon from a produce stand. Life was not easy for my dad. He did the best he could. He taught his children to respect others, to be polite and gracious, to be thankful for every gift and not complain. For this, I will always be grateful. I miss my Dad.
My husband also is a Dad, a very good Dad. He was not priviledged to have a Dad when he was a child. Yet, somehow, he learned the importance of the role. For forty years, he has been present and active in his daughter’s life. I measure the success of his efforts by the person Laura has become. He taught her to believe in herself and have the confidence to succeed in whatever she chooses to pursue. They spend many hours a week staying connected and sharing the joys and frustrations of life.
So I take this opportunity to remember my father fondly for the years of caring and guiding me into adulthood. I thank my husband for the commitment he’s made to being a wonderful Dad.
I extend a round of applause to my brothers, Rob, Larry and Craig, and nephews, Robby, Jeff, David and Kyle. It makes me proud every day as I watch you shine in this significant and challenging role with your own children. We are blessed that you have taken your role to heart and make such a difference in our world. Hope I didn’t forget someone, but remember, I’m over sixty now and there is that senior moment thing 🙂
Do you have a memory or special story to share about your Dad? I’d love to hear about him.
Writing Silver Linings 
Since my dad passed two and a half months ago, I have been flooded with memories of him, but lately I have found myself smiling fondly, and sometimes chuckling, at the way he could whip up a culinary feast.
My dad was a great cook, but he had a talent for making a meal out of those few random items we all seem to have that get lost in the back of the fridge or pantry, and he was great at making a “bottom of the jar dish.” He could literally take something like peanut butter, ramen noodles, scraps of meat, add some garlic and onion here, and a few spices there and make a dish that tasted like something you’d eat at a five star restaurant.
I have lots of happy memories of being in the kitchen with him and I’m still working on honing my talent at whipping up tasty “bottom of the jar” dishes as a way to carry on his unofficial tradition.
Reblogged this on Amanda Bretz's Blog and commented:
As I try and navigate my feelings of loss and bittersweet memories during this first Father’s Day after my dad’s sudden passing, I have found looking back on my dad’s traits and talents helps ease some of the pain.
So far today, I’ve experienced several different emotions. I miss my dad, but know I am not without a father.
Even though I know he’s not really left me, I can’t help but focus on one thing my little sister Bree said during her speech at our dad’s memorial service “God is a father to the fatherless.” And she is right. We have two father’s looking down on us and watching over us now.
I want to thank my friend Diane How for her blog post and for encouraging her readers to share their memories. I am reblogging her most recent post, I hope you’ll check it out and I hope you get as much (or more!) out of the article as I did!
Cherish the memories for they will make the pain more bearable.