A Dad's Legacy

Dada. Daddy. Dad. Father. The name changes over time. Same person but an evolving dad for a changing child. 

Memories tumble around when I think of my dad. Wearing paint splattered overalls and cleaning out smelly brushes, he had painted a house, barn, or schoolroom to supplement his tiny teacher’s salary. He didn’t expect a handout because of his low salary but when I was little, he painted on weekends and summers. 

To obtain his master’s degree, he and his friends drove long distances at night for graduate classes while teaching and coaching. The sacrifices would reap benefits later.

The advanced degree enabled him to become a school principal. A better used car replaced the old paint car. Each new position caused a move to another town. Though hard to leave friends and the familiar, the moves expanded opportunities for all of us. 

Much of our entertainment when I was young was free or very cheap. He played ball with us in the backyard. A tire swing he hung on a big tree kept us occupied for hours and hours. He took us sledding down a farmer’s hill. Movies and eating out were special events, but we didn’t feel deprived by not having lots of expensive toys or trips. 

Fond memories focus on the time spent each summer at our small, rustic family lake cottage. At the time, it was our summer palace. For years there was an outhouse and outside pump which added to its allure. Hour after hour we swam, played cards, fished, boated, and ate with extended family. When motorboats were added, we were thrilled. Then we cruised the lake, rode on homemade boards, and later added skiing. 

As an excited teenager, I took off for college and my new adventure. Homesickness set in when I thought of the family left at home who had cared for and protected me for years. But what I had learned there sustained me.

My life continued happily on with graduation, marriage, moves, and children. Then an unexpected divorce left me devastated and sad but resilient. Christian faith, determination, family values, and compassion that cradled me as a child, youth, and young adult, sustained me as a hurting adult. 

My dad showed up to paint my house, attend to small repairs, fix up my yard, and play with my children. Just being there made a huge difference.

Age has slowed but not stopped his activities even as he still plays softball. His legacy continues with children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. He makes cards for birthdays, anniversaries, and illnesses. He plays catch with a rising softball player, listens to young readers, and plays silly games with toddlers. 

I am blessed to have my dad. Happy Father’s Day.