As Father's Day approaches, I begin to think of dad. I think of my childhood. Some of my fondest memories are playing catch, barefoot in the front yard. Well, I would be barefoot, the feel of cool green grass beneath my feet. Dad would always wear his black work shoes and white socks. Same ones he'd worn to the local textile mill where he worked until he retired.
Sometimes, if I was really lucky, he'd let me help him in the garden. I say 'let' because it felt like a treat. He was pretty particular about his vegetable garden. He had a green thumb like I'll never have. We would pick juicy ripe tomatoes, ears of sweet corn, crunchy cucumbers and beans. I loved it, especially when he'd let me wash off a tomato fresh from the vine and sink my teeth into it. There's nothing like that juicy goodness.
The only thing I didn't particularly like was picking beans. Every year he would plant green beans and butter beans. I just wasn't good at picking them. He would go behind me and, just when I thought I'd done a good job, he'd show me all the beans I'd left on the plant. And, this man of few words, would use those times as a teaching opportunity. Without me even knowing I was being taught. Somehow, he helped me realize a strong work ethic, to never do a job halfway, even when it's not fun.
So, yesterday, with this year's Father's Day approaching, I decided to visit my dad. I turned off Highway 70 and the first thing I noticed were the flowers. They were gorgeous and they were everywhere, dotting the landscape. As I parked against the curb, I noticed that across the way, were other women, visiting their dads too. I kicked off my shoes and felt the cool green grass beneath my feet as I walked over to see dad.
I looked down at the marker he and mom had picked out together so many years ago. I saw his name and then 1911-1996. The memories flooded in as I dug my toes into the grass. It was quiet. I felt at peace. For a few moments, I drank in the memories of the fun times we had together. And I was thankful for this day, this day that was set aside for us to honor and remember our dads.
The further I walked, I felt emotion welling up within me. My heart felt heavy. I missed him. By the time I got to the car I knew that, any minute, I would probably shed some tears. And then, it happened.
It's been said that God has a sense of humor. I think this day confirmed that for me. Without any warning, as I opened the door to my car, in the midst of the peacefulness, the quietness....
My car alarm went off!
I scrambled for the key, for anything, to make it stop. It seemed to me it blared on and on forever. I could only imagine what the other people across the way were thinking. Finally, success! It stopped. I sat there, feeling the stress melt away. I began to breathe again. And somehow, in that moment, I felt emotion welling up inside me and....
I laughed out loud.
That's when I knew, without a doubt, that God has a sense a humor. And somehow, I could just see my dad, looking down on the scene, with a big grin on his face.
The sadness had passed and only joy remained.
Father's Day. A day for fathers and for making memories. In the past, I often found myself dreading the day. In fact, sometimes I would even skip church and try to pretend it was just another day. Not anymore. Thanks to my Heavenly Father, this Father's Day is memorable in a good way. And, somehow, I have a sneaky suspicion that my own dad may have had a hand in it too. The same kind of 'hand' he'd used when he taught me life lessons when I didn't even know I was being taught.
Only time will tell.
Happy Father's Day!
Celebrate Life!
