In my hometown, my dad was part of a coffee group. It was made up of men from this small town who met, I’m sure, to solve the world’s problems. The coffee klatch included our neighbor who was a lawyer. After a rain, my dad would sneak over and put a bit of water in his rain gauge. At coffee, our neighbor would boast about how much rain he had, always a bit more than everyone else.
A friend of mine was bragging that his dad was a Sergeant in the Army. I told my friend my dad was a General. Interesting, since my dad never served in the military. From that time on, whenever the two dads would meet, they’d address each other as Sarge and General.
I remember my dad playing basketball or catch with me at the right time. It’s something that helped me as a parent of boys, who are often more willing to talk or open up if doing something together. I still seek his perspective on issues or ideas.
At 85, my dad finally retired from teaching at a small university. He taught there for twenty years, after he retired from formal ministry. This past year he mentored a middle school confirmation student and we found out they would occasionally meet in a treehouse. At 85 years old.
I’m part of a men’s Bible Study that has met for almost three years. This year we went through a process of developing a spiritual biography that tracked the influences on our lives and what brought us to the church. We then shared our biographies in our small group.
Fully 80% of the guys in this study had lost their dad or had a dysfunctional dad. It blew me away. They didn’t have a dad that put water in rain gauges, played catch, talked about matters or modeled being connected, not even someone you could make a high ranking officer.
It has made me aware that our experience is not someone else’s experience. It has made me more aware that Father’s Day (or Mother’s Day or name a holiday) can be more painful than a celebration. It has made me thankful for people who find their way through bumps in the road. It has made me aware that we all have influence on one another’s lives.
Thank Bruce, this is a great parable.
Ray
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It really humbles me that I also had a great dad who did all those things, yet I don’t feel I appreciate him until he was gone. Funny how that works, yet his influence lives on in me.