I just read an outstanding remembrance of a friend and customer’s father who just passed. The story ended with a poignant commentary of how being home and remembering your father takes you back to your childhood. You may be 40, 50, or 60 years old but your father or his memory can make you feel ten again. Then I realized what would have been my father’s 79th birthday comes up next week. He’s been gone 15 years and I still miss him. And I still have the feeling of being a kid again when his memory creeps into my day. Like a beam of sunlight through a window on an otherwise cold day, it brings warmth. I selfishly pray my three kids will feel a warmth after my time comes, God willing, many years from now knowing, like a lot of fathers, I wasn’t perfect but I loved them with all my heart and at every instance since before their birth tried to act in a way that made their lives better, happier.
My Dad as a young, earnest businessman.
I know in our society, and here on social media, wonderful and deserving Mom’s are spoken of highly, frequently and with great love. But my Mom was seldom part of my life, for many years. I had my Dad. I inherited so much from him. Some good, some not so good. He was a flawed man and much of what I learned from him was what NOT TO DO. But as I’ve written before when 25% of Dad’s deprive their biological children their presence, not to mention their love, my Dad was there. He was always there. Maybe, like me, you had conflicts with your father. Maybe you didn’t like, appreciate or understand his disciplines, or his words or actions. But maybe, just maybe, if he was there, if he attended your soccer games, came home at night, shared Christmas and holidays with you and showed you he cared, even if he didn’t say it, then maybe you can forgive him too.
Here’s a shout out to the Dad’s I’ve been privileged to know who did the right thing and were always there for their kids. You give more than you know by being there. And probably more than your kids know, at least, they don’t until you’re not there anymore.
Thank you P.J. for this sweet beam of sunshine you provided me today.
M Schuett blah blah blah 