Happy Father's Day

Although my father has been affected by a stroke and dementia, I can still hear the friendliness of his spirit over the phone when I call him from across the country.

I remember going on trips, with my Dad sitting in the driver's seat, the bulwark; not that he was particularly large, though to me as a child he was...but what I felt was that I could always depend on him. There was nothing I could fear with my father there.

I remember going to restaurants or to the lumber yard and my father's friendliness with everyone he encountered, always trying to get those around him to smile and be a little happier.

I remember his insistence on my learning independence. He gave me a sizable allowance with which to buy everything from candy to toothpaste, movies to pencils, but I must first put ten percent in church and ten percent in savings. I must budget my money. And I shouldn't borrow money from him "just until we get home" because I should always carry my purse.

But I also remember his generosity, surprising me with an English racing bike for one birthday. And when I had grown up (sort of) and moved away, and was riding my little motorcycle for transportation, I remember his getting together with my mom to drive from Washington to California to bring me a car as a gift.

I remember as a mother of six active children (five of them boys) that the best vacation was going to visit Dad, who had raised two quiet girls and was living alone and yet would open his home to our happily noisy family. And during the day we could go off to visit Vancouver Lake, or go shopping or whatever we wanted to do, and when we came home, a delicious dinner would be cooking.

Thank you, dear Lord, for fathers, and bless them.