(dad and i at elizabeth's wedding on thursday, july 5th)
My father is the most hard working man I know.
He is always working on a project, or home improvement task, or (before he retired), something in preparation for the summer fishing season. He has a dry sense of humour but mostly is a serious man of few words, or of words that are spoken only when he deems necessary, usually on a topic he feels passionate about. And as much as I find myself a lot like him, there are more than a few instances where I don't think we quite have the same understanding of what kinds of words are "necessary".
In the years growing up, I would work on projects or had reached certain accomplishments. I would turn to Dad and ask him what he thought of a painting I'd just finished or a song I had played on the piano in church and he would take a quick glance and simply go, "mmmhmm" or give a nod and that was it. I'd leave a little hurt, interpreting his response as him feeling indifferent to it when all I wanted was some approval or encouragement. And maybe it was my own fault for asking if he liked my drawing while he was concentrating on his newspaper word search. Sheesh.
I am happy to say that he's gotten much better over the years, partly due to the urgings of mother for a little extra attention to his daughters. He's now added phrases like, "good job," or "mmmhmmm, s'alright" to his lexicon. Considering he once offered, "I'm eatin' it aren't I?!" with a chuckle, to whether or not he liked the new recipe Mom had prepared, maybe I have to come to accept this kind of answer as the best I'll ever get! Oh, Dad. Only you.
In the last year or two I came across the book "The Five Love Languages". It was the first time I had considered that there were so many different ways people express and perceive love. The author broke them down into Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service and Physical Touch. In reading the content list I could already tell which ones were most important to me, and I realized that I was missing out on the ways others around me had been showing it. I was applying the knowledge of its pages to friends and relationships, forgetting that it could be applied to my parents' relationships with me as well.
Anyway, I went downstairs later on Wednesday morning to see how the progress on the bathroom was going, for sure that he had been up working on it since 8 or 9am. He'd been fixing it up for my sister over the last couple of weeks. I walked in just as he had discovered a slight mistake in the length of a piece of wood that he'd already cut and painted to help finish the wall. So he'd set himself to the task of nailing an inch long piece to the end, then carefully shaving it to the perfect fit. The next task would be to repaint and wait for that paint to dry before he could get back to what he was originally working on. Quite the little setback. Yet he didn't complain. He simply worked.
My eyes stung and I suddenly felt overwhelmed, trying to hold back tears. That man has been showing love in the absolute extreme for my entire life with his Acts of Service. Part of me always knew that he had a different way of showing his love, but I don't think I've ever grasped it as fully as I did that morning. My entire life of living at home, going to grade school, my father was the first to rise so he could turn on our furnace to make sure our home was warm in the mornings. He would make us a sandwich and pack our lunch to make sure we had something to eat every day. He was the one to call up the steps to wake us up. Little things such as these in the mundane routine of life that I definitely took for granted.
I don't think I will ever find a man that loves deeper than my father does, even if it's not my instinctive interpretation of love. I've been looking for it and I don't know if it can be found in this generation where everything is readily disposed and replaced, rather than mended with time and patience.
One day after mom and dad had gone to her retirement celebration in early June, a woman approached my mother and said, "I couldn't help but notice how your husband really loves you." Apparently the lady saw it in how proud he looked as he watched Mom without her knowing. After over 25 years of marriage, I think that speaks much louder than mere words. And it was he who had asked for me to make her a big "happy retirement" sign and made sure to find the perfect card and flowers to go with it, on her last day of work.
I love you, Daddy.
Thank you for being a good, faithful man to my mother and a good, faithful father to us.
