Some of us are blessed to have many years with our parents. For me, I was blessed with 44 wonderful years with my mother, but I was only given 12 years with my father. I was a late in life baby. My older brother and sisters were 18, 17 and 12 years older than me. I was the youngest of 4, but since I was so much younger it was like being an only child. Of course I was spoiled rotten. My brother-in-law always recounts this story when he was dating my oldest sister. One night when he came over to pick her up for a date there I was standing at the end of the long livingroom table with my sister holding my hand. Everyone was singing, “Here she is Miss America!” (Now you know why I am such a Diva! Or like my husband likes to call me –“High Maintenance”). He just couldn’t get over how neither one of my parents said anything about me being on the table. He said they just smiled and sang along, especially my Dad.
What I remember about my Dad is that he was a gentle, loving man who was very much loved by his family and liked by his friends and colleagues. He was soft-spoken and never said a harsh word or raised a hand to me or any of my siblings. When my mother spoke of him he was the love of her life, her rock and her best friend. My brother and sisters spoke of him as the silent, strong, balancing force between him and my mother. Mom was the one who dispensed the punishment and Dad always firmly agreed.
He was a hardworking man – a commercial and residential painter. He worked long days and always brought home his money. He loved to wear those slip-on painters shoes and would always take them off and leave them right by the front door which drove my Mom crazy. She would fuss and he would just smile, give her a wink and a kiss on the cheek.
Hunting and fishing was his first love. I guess being a Frenchman from Cajun country in Louisiana was part of his DNA. I remember when he and my brother Currin would go for weekends during hunting season down to the camp on Delacroix Island. They would return with all kinds of ducks, line them up on the carport and take pictures. (Of course I was always somewhere to be found smiling in them.) They would clean them and then the next week Mom would cook a big duck supper for all of Dad’s hunting buddies to come over and eat. That was some good eating! Dad always said my Mom cooked the best duck stew.
He died of a massive heart attack the month before my twelfth birthday. I never saw my mother cry so much. It was a rough time, but somehow we made it through. You see, my Dad was the one with the strong faith. He was the one who always went to church on Sunday and took me with him. He was the one who eventually got my mother to go to church as well. He was the one with the strong, but silent faith in our family. I guess that’s what I love about him the most. He was a man who led by example. He walked the walk of faith. No fancy prophetic words, extraordinary good deeds, just lived his life simply and faithfully.
One of my last memories of him happened on the day I was leading the rosary in 6th grade. It was the year after his first heart attack. I noticed he was not in the church that afternoon, so I figured he was tired and stayed home. Later, when I went to run an errand to the office I saw him sitting on the front steps. He was out of breath. I went and sat by him. He apologized that he didn’t make it on time because he overslept. Clearly I could see he had rushed to try to make it and he was having trouble catching his breath, so I just put my arm around him and gave him a big hug. Just then the secretary came out of the office and began to scold me for talking to a stranger. I politely told her, “He’s not a stranger, he’s my Dad.”
Even though I was not able to have my Dad through my teenage and later life years, I know he was and is with me. I still miss him and know that he is with my Mom in heaven preparing a place for all of us.
So, today on Father’s Day I just want to say – Thanks Dad for always treating me like a princess, for letting me put whatever I wanted into the grocery basket, for bringing me home brownies for my lunch, for teaching me how to make sugar donuts from biscuits, for letting me sleep on your side of the bed when Momma said no, for helping me put bait on the line for fishing, for watching cartoons with me on Saturdays, for loving us unconditionally, for loving Mom, for taking me to church on Sundays and planting the seeds of faith. Thank you for giving me a role model to look up to. Thank you for the little things that have made a big difference in my life. However short our time together on earth has been I know we will meet again for a lifetime in heaven. Thanks for being my Dad!
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