A Birthday Tribute to My Dad

My dad is an amazing man who will turn 86 tomorrow. I recently spent a very pleasant evening with him. I cooked him dinner, for which he was very grateful, and then we sat in front of the fire (where I had been most of the day) and we chatted about everything from ecology to theology. I was so fortunate to have been blessed with the parents that I had. My childhood was sort of like "Leave It To Beaver" and though I may not have fully appreciated it then, I certainly do now. My folks had been married 61 years when my mom died this past May. I miss my mom a lot but because my memory is so poor, I am especially grateful to still be able to talk to my dad. He keeps thinking that if I write enough, I'll remember more, but I am not convinced. Ask my daughters - their childhood is a blur - as is my own. However, there are a few things that I do remember...

When I was about 17 I experienced a bit of a rebellious season. One night, I climbed out my bedroom window long after I was supposed to be in bed, and ended up cruising around town in the middle of the night with a few friends. To make a long (and embarrassing) story short, we were eventually pulled over and a policeman politely took me home. I stood at my front door while the officer knocked. My parents both got out of bed and answered the door. I can't imagine what they were thinking as they looked at us standing there. But my dad took one quick glance at the policeman and me and said, "No matter what you've done, we still love you!" I was grounded for weeks after that but no punishment meted out could have affected me more than that simple but profound statement.

Dad has always loved camping and all things outdoorsy. While my brother shared this love, I was a less than enthusiastic participant. Nevertheless, he kept trying. One weekend, he took my brother and a friend as well as my girlfriend and I on a backpacking trip in the hills above Santa Barbara. I don't remember much of the trip except that it was very hot and we had to dig holes to use as our bathroom. Two teenage girls did not think that was very enticing. At 86, Dad still goes camping! He has joined the Hannas on several of their trips, much to the delight of his great-grandchildren. He loves adventure! As I sit here writing this, he is on his way to Santa Margarita Lake to launch his brand new inflatable kayak. He doesn't hesitate to try new things and can even be a bit quirky at times. Last summer we were (and still are) inundated with ground squirrels. I stopped in at his house one afternoon and found him sitting in the recliner by the living room window. He had taken the screen off the window and was intently staring outside with his rifle by his side. He was shooting at the squirrels from the comfort of his recliner!

When my girls were growing up, we were fortunate enough to live just four houses down from my parents. Dad is a retired high school teacher and counselor and he has never lost his love of learning. My kids were not very good spellers and they can remember running down the street to Papa's house for a weekly tutoring session. He had far more patience with them than I did. That was about 25 years ago and he is still at it. He recently went on an Elder Hostel trip to Arizona where he spent a week tutoring Indian children on a reservation.

He has never adopted the attitude that he is too old to serve and minister. He has been quietly mentoring several younger men and meeting with them regularly for encouragement, prayer, counsel, and friendship. His example inspires me and it also is a wonderful heritage for my daughters and their kids. His demonstration of his faith will be carried on through the children, both young and old. He is also passionate about our country and is proud of his service in the U.S. Navy. He loves to wear his favorite hat and always appreciates the conversations that ensue with strangers.

Dad will be embarrassed by this birthday tribute so I'll just share one more story to show everyone how truly giving my dad is. He had been very concerned about my car situation. As you may remember, I am driving a very old, somewhat beat-up Buick. (You can read about that here.) Dad had been worrying about what might happen if my car suddenly died. One day, he took it upon himself to "solve" my problem. He got up, drove to SLO, executed his plan, and drove back to my house. It was a Friday, my day off, and I happened to be home when I heard a strange car driving up to the house. I walked outside to this...

It's a hot, little, turbo-charged convertible. Dad graciously sacrificed and now owns this little number in addition to his older Camry. He figured if my car died, I could drive the Camry and he would continue to fold himself into the Miata. Isn't he a thoughtful guy? ☺

Love you, Dad. Happy Birthday!!