Dad Was There

I was sitting in my father's funeral before I fully realized what a great man he was.

My dad loomed large in my life.  You knew when he called you, you'd better run to him.  Hesitation was not a good idea.  You just came.

I feared and respected my dad, but I was not particularly close to him.

I knew that he worked hard all of his life to provide for his large family.  He used his ingenuity and confidence.  He always took a can-do attitude with him and was seldom discouraged.

When it came to decisions about us children, and even often his own business, he deferred to the wisdom and insight of my mother.  He always gave my mother credit for everything good.  As I viewed my mother as as perfect as any human being could be, I accepted his deferment without question.  Mom always handed Dad credit back, but I always thought this was just modesty and politeness on her part.

I didn't think my dad was perfect.  I didn't think of him as bad.  I really just didn't think of him enough at all.

Dad was just there.  He was always there, in the background, supporting Mom and us with whatever we were doing.  He didn't often call attention to himself.  He was just one of the people there.

But that is my point.

He was there.

He was always there.  He might not have been effusive in his praise of us, although he did say kind words at appropriate times.  But he was there.  When someone had an event in his or her life, Dad was there.  He might not have made speeches or been extravagant.  But he was there.

He was faithful to my mother.  He served faithfully in his church.  He was there for us at school performances, recitals, graduations, talks.  He wanted the best for us, was proud of our achievements, and was there to see them.

He took care of my mother until her death, even though his came first.  The night he died, I was haunted by disturbing images of my mother slaving herself twenty hours a day, trying to keep their business running. I was relieved in the morning when she told me she would be receiving his life insurance benefit and could close down the business.

For all his gruffness, Dad had a tender heart.  He could often be found silently weeping during touching sermons and TV shows.

He and Mom went to countless viewings and funerals for people they knew.  In times of crisis, he was there.  He rescued us from broken pipes, clogged drains, and locked-in keys.  He unhesitatingly put on a white shirt and trousers any time anyone asked him to give them a blessing.

He came, and he was there.

Thanks, Dad.