In honor of Father’s Day let me tell you about my dad. The best way to tell you about my dad is to tell you how I grew up. I was the first born to my parents and my first home was a trailer. Not very long after that I lived in a house outside the city limits of Greenwood, Arkansas in a community called Burnsville. I lived in that house for 16 years.
It was at that house I learned how to build a fire because we didn’t get central heat and air until later.
It was at that house I learned to ride my bike (only after my little brother did it, did I decide it was worth the risk).
It was at that house I learned to mow the yard and kill snakes with the lawn mower.
It was at that house I learned to climb trees.
It was at that house I learned that if you dump pumpkin seeds under the porch instead of out by the fence (like your dad said) you will have pumpkin patch the next year…under your porch.
It was at that house I learned how to pop the screen out of the kitchen window and climb over the grill when I couldn’t find my house key.
It was at that house I learned my dad was not perfect.
It was at that house I would see my dad reading his Bible.
It was at that house I would see my dad prepare a Sunday School lesson every week for high school and then later college Sunday school classes.
It was at that house I learned that fighting with my brother was never an option.
It was at that house I learned to be creative because we only had three TV channels, one TV, no game consoles, an MS-DOS computer, and no internet.
It was at that house I learned the value of a dollar and a paycheck.
It was at that house I learned to love reading.
It was at that house I learned how to cook because I was responsible for cooking dinner one night a week.
It was at that house I learned my dad had more patience than I gave him credit for.
It was at that house I learned my dad’s faithfulness to my mom while her dad was dying of cancer.
It was at that house I learned my dad’s fortitude for our family when he would take a stand and we followed his decision.
Like I said, we lived in that house until I was 16 years old. That’s when my dad decided that we were going to build a house. People now days call it your “forever home.” We lived in another trailer during the building process. My parents tried to dress up the trailer thing by telling us it was mobile home but it was a trailer and it allowed us to live at low cost and closer to the property my parents were building their forever home on. Because my dad did most of the work himself it took longer than houses today. The forever home was not complete until after I graduated high school. My dad stayed true to his word of building most of that home himself no matter how long it took. My dad stayed true to building our family the way he wanted and the way he thought God would have wanted.
Sure, I didn’t have a lot of things other kids had but I do have a dad that loves my mom, loved my brother and I, and now loves his grandchildren. I do think it’s funny that my dad allows my kids to have things he would have never allowed me or my brother to have but whatever…I’m totally over it.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you!