Play – During the long summer evenings he spent playing
catch with my brother and me after a full day of farming, he would throw us pop
flies until his back got sore. I don’t
know if it helped me in the outfield, but it served as a constant reminder of
how valuable we were to him.
Work Hard – On many summer
mornings we woke up early to go out and cut weeds out of soybeans; down the
rows and back again, for hours, sweating, making progress, quietly anticipating
the cold water jug waiting on the truck tailgate. I hated it at the time, but like most difficult
tasks, it was good for the soul.
Act Silly – His dancing and singing and wrestling with us on
the living room floor often punctuated evenings at home. He had, and has, a tremendous sense of humor.
Set Boundaries – A few weeks after I’d earned my driver’s license,
I passed a school bus driving much too fast.
He found out and the keys became his for longer than I liked.
Sit – Nearly all of our evening dinners growing up, and most
meals in general, were spent around the kitchen table as a family. Regardless of how busy life became, this
habit remained a custom to which we could anchor our lives.
Explore – Dad wasn’t real big on traveling, but we still did
it. Every summer I can remember, we
explored someplace new. I saw a big
chunk of the country before I became an adult.
Pray Often – At meals, before bedtime, he made it a habit to
talk to God.
These are the lessons I learned from my father. These are the lessons I hope
to pass onto his grandchildren.
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