Recently though, I've been able to find more similarities between my dad and I because I was blessed to have him with us at our home. Over the summer as I traveled east to his home in PA, we had a lot of time to talk and reminisce and muse about the future. Being diagnosed with cancer contributed to his musings; he knew his time was shorter than we all planned it to be. He knew that he didn't have a lot of time to do and see all he wanted to.So we talked, rambled, looked deeply at things. We watched for little joys in the day; like the deer that wandered into his yard daily and the hummingbird that flew to his new feeder moments after we hung it up. We looked at the kids playing in the yard and marveled at their creativity and intelligence at work. We laughed together at old pictures and knew how important it is to take those pictures to save the stories that we might forget later on. I save those moments too. I write them down and cherish the stories. We walked around the lake near his house. One day we went together, another day with my own kids, and it was bittersweet to me that we wouldn't continue to do this with him. I will continue to take my kids to the forest preserves, lakes, camping, hiking and show them the beauty of outdoors...but it will be without my dad walking with us. He knew it was important to teach kids about the names of animals and trees. To notice the difference in bird calls and leaf patterns and fish that you catch (and release). Mark and I will keep that going.
As a teacher, I know the importance of education. But I know that and feel it in my bones because my dad taught it to me. He wanted us all to do our best and get an education. He saved and worked hard to make sure we had our shot to go to college. I blew my opportunity from him and disappointed him to the heart, I'm very sure of that. But I worked hard later and graduated from college because I WANTED it. And I know he was proud of that later. I know he was proud of ME. I'm glad he saw me graduate and do something with my education. I'm glad he knew it worked out in the end and I learned from my mistakes. Because we're both pretty stubborn. If there is an idea in our heads, we aren't going to let it go lightly. It really is impossible not to look at my own kids and how we parent them, when going through all the old pictures and hearing the stories from my aunts about Dad's childhood and growing up. As we planned his memorial, the stories flowed, as they often do, and Dad's sisters told stories of how he picked on them, defended them, got into trouble, saved the day, worked and was lazy. I loved watching their faces as they told the stories. He was protective of his sisters, like Adam to Lucy, but also tormented them because that's his right as the brother! Love it!
My dad died on November 9, 2012.
One month before his 67th birthday. I was there, alonge with his sisters and our immediate family, when he left this life and walked home with Jesus. I watched the light leave his eyes, and the pain leave his face. I remembered every single time I knew I disappointed him and a few times I managed to make him proud. I know that he wanted to do much, much more with us, but our time and God's time runs very differently. Dad told me that I shouldn't wait forever to do the things I really can do now. He told me to love and hold on to my kids, to respect and care for my husband, to be a strong wife and mother. He told me to be sensitive to them and be careful with my words. Words can hurt. So I'm trying Dad. I'm trying to do that. So that I can be what you modeled for us, and learn from your mistakes too. People often use the phrase "apples and trees" -usually while rolling our eyes a bit- to compare children to their parents. I hope I CAN follow what Dad told me. Because it would be an honor to have someone say "apples and trees" when they look at me, and think of my dad. He was a good man, strong parent and I feel confident that on his walk Home, he was told "well done my good and faithful servant". Miss you Dad.
.
As a teacher, I know the importance of education. But I know that and feel it in my bones because my dad taught it to me. He wanted us all to do our best and get an education. He saved and worked hard to make sure we had our shot to go to college. I blew my opportunity from him and disappointed him to the heart, I'm very sure of that. But I worked hard later and graduated from college because I WANTED it. And I know he was proud of that later. I know he was proud of ME. I'm glad he saw me graduate and do something with my education. I'm glad he knew it worked out in the end and I learned from my mistakes. Because we're both pretty stubborn. If there is an idea in our heads, we aren't going to let it go lightly. It really is impossible not to look at my own kids and how we parent them, when going through all the old pictures and hearing the stories from my aunts about Dad's childhood and growing up. As we planned his memorial, the stories flowed, as they often do, and Dad's sisters told stories of how he picked on them, defended them, got into trouble, saved the day, worked and was lazy. I loved watching their faces as they told the stories. He was protective of his sisters, like Adam to Lucy, but also tormented them because that's his right as the brother! Love it!My dad died on November 9, 2012.
One month before his 67th birthday. I was there, alonge with his sisters and our immediate family, when he left this life and walked home with Jesus. I watched the light leave his eyes, and the pain leave his face. I remembered every single time I knew I disappointed him and a few times I managed to make him proud. I know that he wanted to do much, much more with us, but our time and God's time runs very differently. Dad told me that I shouldn't wait forever to do the things I really can do now. He told me to love and hold on to my kids, to respect and care for my husband, to be a strong wife and mother. He told me to be sensitive to them and be careful with my words. Words can hurt. So I'm trying Dad. I'm trying to do that. So that I can be what you modeled for us, and learn from your mistakes too. People often use the phrase "apples and trees" -usually while rolling our eyes a bit- to compare children to their parents. I hope I CAN follow what Dad told me. Because it would be an honor to have someone say "apples and trees" when they look at me, and think of my dad. He was a good man, strong parent and I feel confident that on his walk Home, he was told "well done my good and faithful servant". Miss you Dad.
No comments:
Post a Comment