So many debates have been raging lately in Congress and at dinner tables about what constitutes a family that the term “family values” has almost become divisive. But today we must come together to celebrate fathers’ love for their children. Surely we can agree that it is a gift too grand to be repaid in full. Americans should set aside their differences and spend the rest of the year working to see that more children experience that love.
Posted by Melissa Cooley
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22 Comments
Daddy, you are the greatest. Thanks for supporting me for 22 years, including my impulsive decision to up and move to Hawaii. I know we often butt heads on what a “successful future” is–you want me to get a good job and make tons of money, I want to travel around the world and learn new things forever–but I know that you only want me to be happy. I’ll miss you! Take care of your health, old man, and I’ll see you at Christmas!Love, Tara
Happy Fathers Day to all the great dads out there!
And to all of the deadbeat dads out there who abandon their families and skip out on child support:You deserve the death penalty. I hope you all rot in hell.
Incidentally, I know a lovely gay male couple with a 30 month old son. He’s deeply loved and thriving (he can already read due to his parents reading to him since infancy). That family embodies family values better than many trainwrecky, hetero families do.
I lost my dad two years ago last January, I had wrote something for him almost ten years ago. I do not have it with me so this is from memory.
Blame my dad.
If you tell me that it is the damn foreigners that are ruining this country and I tell you that I wish all you foreigners would go back to where you came. So we could have the good land back. Blame my dad, for he told me that a man makes his own fortune and place.
If you tell me that some T.V. preacher wants to make your life better and all you have to do is sent him some money. And I tell you that the only life he want to improve is his own, blame my dad for he said that God will bless you at his will and money will not convince him to do otherwise.
If you find me to be beyond temptation, blame my dad as he told me if I could steal a million dollars then do it as I would deserve to get away with it. Any thing less is not worth it.
If you find me too blunt and strong in my opinion, blame my dad as he said a man’s worth is truly in his word. So spend it so it is worth spending and believe in your words.
And if you find I am a good man, one that is worth knowing and a true friend. Blame my dad, as he is my role model and my hero, the wind beneath my wings.
Happy father’s day dad!
Bernie Liebst1928-2004
Sorry for the length here. I’m not as good as writerdog, so I need more words to tell a story. I wrote this for the Dad I still miss every day:
Well, it’s Father’s Day weekend, and between barbecues, gag gift opening, and other traditional activities, you may hear someone say “thanks Dad for all you do.”
Father’s Day wasn’t something we celebrated when I was young because it usually fell during wheat harvest, which is a polite term for “collective madness” in Western Kansas.
Dad was too busy getting that crop in the bin so we could survive or thrive, depending on the yield and the price, for another year. The “thanks” just had to wait.
My father’s been gone now twenty years, but he remains the biggest influence in my life, and in my business adventures. He never really thought of himself as a businessman because that was a term reserved for bankers and merchants in town. “I’m just a dirt farmer,” he would say, as though that didn’t require any special business acumen.
But everything I know about business, I learned from him, standing on the edge of a wheat field.
Early in the morning, we’d get up to grease the combine, check belts and hoses, air up the tires, and gas up the trucks. “Take care of your equipment,” he’d say, “because an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure”.
Then, before we’d hit the field, we would have a little meeting to assign duties and discuss the game plan for the day. “Pay attention” he’d shout to someone not listening, adding “if you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there”. I still hear that when I’m writing a business plan.
Later in the day, when the sun was directly overhead, he’d shut off the combine and yell, “let’s go to the house and eat!” That was unusual, because most farmers were in such a hurry that they made their wives bring sandwiches to the field. But not us. We went home and ate a full meal in air-conditioned comfort and watched “As the World Turns” while we rested.
He used to tell me “if you’re working too hard to feed your men and water your horses, you’re working too damn hard.” I remember that when I’m making stupid mistakes because I’m exhausted and really need some time off.
About mid-afternoon, we’d stop to have a snack and a soda in the shade of the combine. Of course, as a teenager, I was already talking about how I would spend my harvest wages, which were paid in bushels of wheat to be sold later.
“That crop’s not in the bin yet” he’d say with a frown. “I wouldn’t spend that money yet”, and that was how I learned not to depend on future income, but live instead on what’s already in the bank.
I have lots of these memories, but the most important lesson I learned was also the most painful. We were about midway through harvest, with half the crop still in the field, when overnight we had one of those Kansas storms you’ve probably heard about.
This one was different though, and in my bed, I heard the clatter of golf ball sized hail pound the roof of the house. Even as a kid, I knew what that meant. The next morning, no one could eat, and Dad and I went out alone to survey the damage.
If you’ve never seen a field completely mowed down by hail, you’re lucky, because to us, it was the saddest sight in the world. A whole year’s worth of blood, sweat, tears, and expenses were invested in that crop, and overnight, it was destroyed. That meant no income until next year, but the expenses for planting the next crop would just keep mounting.
I was only about 10, and I started crying because I was afraid we might have to sell the farm and move to town. (Yes, farm kids grow up early.) For me, that would have been the end of the world.
And worst of all, it wasn’t even out fault! I thought surely God must hate us. Even being my Dad’s “tough little cookie” couldn’t prevent me from crying my heart out.
When Dad heard my sobs, he knelt down beside me for a minute, and rubbed his own eyes and cleared his throat. “Why are you so upset?” he asked. When I told him my fears, I saw him try to hide a smile.
“Oh honey” he said, “you don’t have to ever worry about that. We are not quitters. It may not seem like it now, but the sun will come out tomorrow, the bank will loan us money, and we’ll farm another year.”
He went on to say “It’ll be all right, I promise. You just have to have hope, and a little faith, and not give in or give up. It will be better next year. Let’s go home and eat, and I’ll take you fishing today. We’ll worry about the farm tomorrow.”
So today, on Father’s Day, I’ll just say, “thanks Dad” because I never forgot those words. Forty years later, when the financial skies cloud up and the hail pounds down on my business, I think of you, Dad.
I still have hope, I still have a little faith, and I try to believe it will be better tomorrow. I think I’ll go fishing this weekend.
Very touching story, KFG.
What do you mean you’re not a good writer? The above put Garrison Keillor to shame.
Thank you.
Thanks DD. That one was channeled from the heart, no writing ability required.
Besides, I just said I wasnt as good as writerdog :)
KFG, you are wrong, I smiled with your dad, fought back the tears with you. saw the fields beaten down and felt the heat of the day. If that is not what writing is about. I better read up on the subject. Thank you for sharing.Rick
Back at ya dude, and say hey to mrs. writerdog too!
Viva la Dads!!!!!!
KFG, dear, I had those tears in my eyes reading your story. You are a treasure, and being your friend makes me proud. Your dad was a man, and that’s what men are supposed to be. Love ya.MOTHER
Dad’s are cool! :)
Great story, KFG!
Damn, KFG, you’ve got me crying, too. There’s nothing like dirt farming to teach you the best way to live life. Hope floats, for sure.
I lost my dad 19 years ago, and although I knew the day would come when it would happen (he was “older” when I came along), it was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I still feel he’s with me every day, watching me, guiding me, encouraging me as he always did. I think he’d be proud, even if though I’m sure I’ve disappointed him, here and there. He had more faith in me than I ever had in myself.
He didn’t expect a lot from me, only that I always do my best and treat others fairly. He was a people watcher and could get along with just about anybody. I can only recall two or three times in my lifetime that I ever saw him lose his Black Irish temper. Wish I could say the same for myself. ;)
Thanks, Daddy.
And to all the other dads here, hope today is a blast!
LOVED your story, KFG, made me cry as I pictured and felt just what you and your family were going through. What a wonderful dad you had(wish there were more like him today) and what a wonderful life lesson.
RD, my father was also Black Irish. Taught me the value of hardwork and unconditional love. He died 32 years ago, I still hear his voice sometimes when I dream at night.
“And to all of the deadbeat dads out there who abandon their families and skip out on child support:You deserve the death penalty. I hope you all rot in hell.”
Somehow I knew this would be in there somewhere.
Beautiful writerdog.
Surpassingly poignant kfg!
A little too fresh for me.Lots to say, but time has not yet passed enough for those recollections to bring a gentle smile but rather sorrow and pain.
My Dad thought I had a gift for words. If I do it fails me today.
I remember the feeling of awkwardness every year when it was time to call my Dad and wish him Happy Fathers day.Guys are that way. I see it from my own son today. Gotta work on that with him.
We all should work on that.
I wish I had that call to make today.
In my posts defending even the most outrageous fellow poster under attack, you see my Dad.In my politics and posts of standing up for the “little guy”, you see my Dad. He was the only crew chief/shop steward in history where he worked. Telling that several of his former “subordinates” showed up for his funeral to mourn his loss. There are bosses I have had whose funeral I will attend, but only to confirm that they are finally dead!
In my attempts here at humor, you see a man who has lost the audience of one he could always make laugh.
I miss you Dad.
1928-2005
Reading all of these comments has made me realize that I am so blessed to still have my father. He has suffered three heart attacks, but he continues to do well. Even though I am a married woman with kids of my own, I still know that when I need him, my Daddy is there for me. My mother and I may be similar in many ways, but I got most of my personality traits from my dad.So, Dad, I love you! Happy Father’s Day!
Honey, I didn’t forget about you. You are a great daddy to our little “Porcupine.” (Why you gave him that nickname, I’ll never know….)I am thankful every day for you! I love you! Happy Father’s Day!
We all dread the day we finally realize we are our dad, for me it was the day I was lecturing the kids and realized I was standing there looking at the ceiling with my lower jaw jutting out as I was talking. I had always thought that dad looked incredibly silly when ever he did that and there I was doing it. Years later, being compare to dad has become a complement. JR when you said “In my attempts here at humor, you see a man who has lost the audience of one he could always make laugh‚”. That really sums up what I miss the most, when I hear a new joke after I finish laughing I think I need to remember to tell dad. Then I remember and it all comes back, the tears stopped but not the sadness. But JR, I still tell him as he is a part of my life. He was the one that got me to start writing, he would ask if anything interesting had happen in the jail and after I would tell him. He would say I should write a book, I finally started the book but never finished it.
At times I will quote him in his views, “If one person tells you that you stink, they may just not like you. If an entire class tells you that you stink, it maybe time to take a bath”.He preferred using a parable to make a point. In this case it was during a talk about my hair style, people at school had been making fun of my hair. But the lesson goes for any time you seem to go against the majority. And a reality check maybe in order of you stance.
RD touched on it, I knew the end was near and if nature follows its best design. We all out live our parents, for it to be any other way seems to me against the laws of nature.As I said at dad’s funeral, “the true job of a dad is to make a good man from a young boy. Dad I think some will agree…Job well done!”.
The last time we had talked was at the nursing home the Christmas before he died. I told him I hoped he did not take this wrong but I wished for him the death that his dad had. He agree, Grandpa had asked grandma Alice how much longer it would be till supper. She had told him about forty five minutes. He told her he thought he would take a nap, he never woke up. Dad was in a good mood the morning the nurse took him to the dining hall. She said he was joking with her and seem happy. He just fell forward on to the table and was gone. We both got our wish, but I firmly believe as long as someone remembers no one truly dies.
As long as someone tell you that you act just like your father! He is with you still, but you already knew that.
I hope that all you Dad’s had a wonderful Father’s Day.
KFG
We have our differences. But that story was beautiful, touching, obviously came from your heart, and a great piece of writing.
The lucky of us, hopefully most of us, feel the same way about our Dads, perhaps in different circumstances, different experiences, but much the same kind of stories.
To all: I know it’s late, but if your dad is still with you, give him a hug.
Even if you’re too old for hugs.