Father Knows Best
Last month I wrote my blog from the airport on my way to Denver. I arrived there safely anticipating a week of work meetings. Early the next morning those plans were abruptly thwarted when my sister called to share that my father had passed away that morning. He had been unhealthy for years and had declined significantly in those recent weeks. Fortunately, my children and I had a chance to say our goodbyes a couple weeks prior. And even though we knew his days were numbered and he was ready to go, and we had come to a place of acceptance and peace, the finality of his death hit hard. Harder than I expected. Knowing that I would never see him again, nor physically be able to touch his hand or give him a hug or kiss breaks my heart. Even as I write this just a couple of weeks out, it brings tears. The sadness comes in waves as I continue to reconcile reality and acclimate to this new chapter. What bolsters me are several things: the love and support of family and friends, the kindness and generosity shown by so many and the memories of him (those I have and those shared with me by others). It made a big difference to get texts, cards, flowers/plants, and thoughtful gifts. I appreciate the check-ins from people letting me know they are thinking of me and my family, keeping us in prayer. I am grateful to work with people who are patient and gracious as I make my way back to my daily professional routine.
On that note, and especially since this is the month we intentionally honor fathers, I’m dedicating this blog to my dad, a former special education teacher. He was one of the best, in my humble opinion. I watched him purchase items he would use as prizes for the students in his contained classroom. He worked hard to help them learn by incorporating different strategies and creative approaches. He gave his heart to them, devoted to their progress and well-being. I remember times he would struggle when a student was struggling, wondering what else he could do to make things better for them. It was obvious he cared. That is one of the ways I carry my dad forward with me. Fighting for the “under-dog”, caring for those who can be hard to love or even like, working hard for the betterment of young people. I will embed my dad’s legacy into my own.
As I reflect on his life, which I’ve done a lot lately, I believe there are other life lessons we can all glean from my dad while endeavoring to find balance between our work and our own well-being. I will share a few of them here with you in hopes they help.
1. Family is first. My dad did not have an idyllic childhood, so he attempted to create that for my sisters and me (as best he could). He was a good father, reliable, steady, consistent. He had his “routine of life” and stayed true to his convictions. After his retirement, he would spend a week each summer with each of his daughters and our families. My children loved those times and carry so many cherished memories from those experiences. He loved his grandchildren and prioritized time with them.
2. Travel is a must. As children we would road trip 20+ hours to Florida every winter break and celebrate Christmas on the beach. He also took trips to Italy and Ireland with my mother and other retired educators. He traveled Route 66 with friends in his beloved Corvette. And my sisters and I were able to take him to New York City as his last hurrah a few years ago. Those adventures provide incredible memories that we will hold dear for years to come.
3. Stay physically active. One of my favorite memories of my dad is the time I spent with him when I was around 7 years old. He would run 5 miles every morning and I would often ride my bike with him to keep him company as he would train for local races. As he got older, he would walk every day or ride his bike, workout and/or play pickleball (before it was popular). He had a commitment to staying healthy and active with a goal to live to 100.
4. Find your community. My dad didn’t have a lot of friends growing up (see comment re: his childhood above), however as an adult he submerged himself in his church community, consistently attending services and events. He also joined a Corvette club and spent time with those like-minded enthusiasts. And later in life, he made himself available to gatherings with neighbors in his active retirement community.
5. Maintain important relationships. Related to number 4, in his late 20’s and early 30’s he developed friendships with two men in particular who he maintained contact with until his passing. In the final stages of my dad’s life, I updated these friends on his status regularly as they stayed in touch with me. It did not go unnoticed that these three men had a deep bond that lasted for nearly 60 years. Relationships like that are remarkable and can bring so much richness and goodness to your life.
Even though my dad’s life was cut short (he did not make his goal of 100) as the result of a horrible disease, there are so many gifts he bestowed on us during his time here on earth and now afterwards. I hope that as you determine ways to spend your precious time you will consider these so you too can look back with fond memories and relish in abounding love, joy, and peace.