Father's Day With Dad

This past weekend, I was able to spend a lot of time with my dad. It was Father's Day, and he kept asking us what we wanted to do. I explained to him that we were there to do whatever he wanted to do. And so we found ourselves driving to "The Point" at the confluence of the Ohio and Little Kanawha Rivers, and then driving to Fort Boreman Park to look down upon the Shpelewathiipi. We were able to pack a whole lot into the weekend.

If you haven't met my dad, you are missing out. He is one of the most amazing people I know. He seems to form an instant rapport with strangers, and he absolutely loves people. When given the opportunity, he loves to serve and care for others. In fact, he has such a strong bias toward caring for others that often he stays silent when it comes to things that he wants--all the more reason that this weekend was an occasion for doing what he wanted to do. :)

When I was a little kid, I can remember him making the trip for almost every sporting event I was part of. He came to every choir concert, every special event, and no matter how busy his schedule, he had a knack for squeezing in more time. I can remember regularly hiking and fishing at Mountwood Park, and when we would go trolling for trout in the lake, sometimes he would even let me drive the boat. Even after a long day of work, gardening, and household work, he would make time to pass baseball, play basketball, kick around a soccer ball, or go for a bike ride. We used to take these epic rides along the Ohio River from "The Point" to up behind the Grand Central Mall.

And on Father's Day, true to form to how he has lived his whole life, he blessed me far beyond any way I could ever bless him. During the morning church services at 19th Street Church of God, I was able to hear one of the best messages on honoring your father I have ever heard. And as the service ended, the pastor called all of the fathers and grandfathers to the altar. And then he called the children of these father's to the altar. He then instructed the fathers to lay hands on their sons and pray a blessing on them.

Now this next part may seem a bit silly, but I don't care. For almost as long as I have been a Christian, I have dreamed of my dad laying hands on me and praying a blessing over me as the father's of Israel did for their sons from Abraham onward. Of course, as a son, it's not something you want to ask your dad to do; it's just something you want to happen on its own. And today, it did. I went to Parkersburg to bless my dad and spend time with him, and God had planned to answer a prayer that has been near my heart for nearly half of my life. As my dad gently placed his hand on my shoulder, I began to weep. I couldn't stop weeping. This pastor, who had no idea of my prayers with regard to this single act, had been used by the Creator of the universe to bring into reality this prayer of mine.

Let me be clear. I know my dad loves me, and that he wants the best for me. But there was something supernatural that I experienced this morning has he began to pray silently for me in front of a congregation of strangers who were also spiritual brothers, and sisters bonded to me by the mystical life, death, and resurrection of the Messiah. God gave me a special gift through my dad today.

I am without adequate words to express my gratitude for my father's incredible gift to me on Father's Day, and I pray that I can honor him better and better as long as I have life and breath. I fail with regularity, but with God's help, I will do a better job each new day.

Father's Day 2010

Of course, aside from being West Virginia’s 147th birthday yesterday, it was also Father’s day. And thankfully I was able to spend a little bit of the day with my dad, tell him I loved him, and thank him for the way he raised me. Not everyone has had the same kind of dad that I have had, and while my dad is not perfect (he would be the first to admit it), he is a wonderful father. He and my mother were instrumental in helping my siblings and I become the people who we are today.

Last night, after visiting with him briefly on Lake Floyd yesterday afternoon, I gave him a call. I called to tell him just how wonderful he was, and how much it meant to me that he and mom invested in me, my sister, and my brother. He can safely say that he has not wasted his life, and he still has more of it to live and to enjoy.

I can remember Sunday mornings being a very sacred time for us growing up. Now for all of my Christian friends, you probably think I’m going to talk about going to church and getting dressed for Sunday school. That wasn’t the case. I didn’t put my faith in Jesus until my junior year in college (and my life has been radically altered since then). No, it was a different kind of space my dad and I visited. Sundays around 10AM from the time I was in junior high (maybe earlier), we would go into my high school’s gym. He was a custodian at my high school and so we would use his keys to get in. I would practice free throws and do different drills, and we would spend a couple hours together. I never blossomed into the next Magic Johnson, as I had hoped, but dad and I had some pretty special Sunday memories together.

Not only that, my dad has always been a tremendous example of hard work and dedication to family and friends. Dad would always make sure all of us kids had enough to eat, and were able to take advantage of any opportunity to better ourselves and give us further possibilities to have better careers than he and mom had. He would work a full day, come home, and go to work in our family garden, cut grass and take care of several chores around the house. And then, before it got dark in the summer time, there was always time for playing basketball, helping me work on fielding, pitching, and hitting with baseball, kicking around a soccer ball, or going fishing in our little “Sea King” boat at Mountwood Park or the Belleville or Willow Island locks and dam (or wherever the fish were biting!).

He always encouraged us to do our best growing up. We had total freedom to fail, as long as we gave our best efforts. Dad and mom spurred us on so we might have the opportunities that he and mom did not have. He worked hard, he loved us well and truly helped us become the people we are today.
Dad has never been one for going out to eat a lot, but I can remember trips to places like Becky’s Hot Dogs in Parkersburg and sitting with our food hanging from the window as we drank root beer slushes together.

As we got off the phone last night, he was making his way into the hospital to spend time with my uncle who was in pretty intense pain after his knee surgery last week. My dad has always given selflessly of his time, and really strives to care for others around him. I hope that as I grow older, I can love people as well as he does, and I hope I can help him realize what a great example he has been to all of us kids.

And as for you, I hope you can take time to hug your dad and love him, and I would challenge you to do it, even if he hasn’t been the most loving to you. Maybe you can change the trend. I realize not everyone has great relationships with their fathers, but I hope that somehow you can mend those ties. And no matter what, I encourage you to do it soon if your father is still around. After reading Nick Kristof’s NYT article and my friend Charles Lee’s post yesterday as I was lying down for sleep, I can’t help but be reminded of the importance of taking advantage of the short time we have with people. Give em a read yourself, and then call your dad, or better yet, visit him!

And Dad, if you are reading this, I love you very much, I’m honored to be your son, and I know Becky and Chuck are as well.