Two things drive this post, both from God’s word.
One, honor for the aged (Lev. 19:32).
Two, never neglect to say thank you (Luke 17:11-19).
My father turns 84 today. The whole gang celebrated yesterday at Kettles’ Castle in Melbourne. We had a blast. Three words say it all: Chocolate Avalanche Cake. Well, we enjoyed other sweet aspects of our time together, but good gracious that bad boy rocked!
When I first considered the concept for this post, I said to myself, Heff, you’re insane. Dad means a lot to you and the rest of the sibs, but do you really think you can conjure up that many specifics? Easier than I thought. See for yourself.
Happy Birthday, pops! I want you to know that I thank you on this, your 84th birthday, not necessarily in any particular order, for the following:
- Giving me your name (Yes, the man adopted me). Nothing common about my handle.
- Keeping your wedding vows to my mother all these decades.
- Taking me to my first Phillies game at Connie Mack Stadium. Remember? We sat on the third base line.
- Losing all that sleep when you let me drive the Vette to the prom.
- Treating me no differently from your own kids.
- Rarely, if ever, losing your cool.
- Humbly admitting your faults like you did at our last family meeting.
- Willingly participating in family meetings even when it means constructive input.
- Joining me at a Harlem Globetrotters game at The Spectrum.
- Pulling off the vacation of a lifetime with that two-week RV trip out west.
- Giving new meaning to the word “frugal.”
- Coming to my plays–even all the way up to Penn State.
- Insisting on the 2/3–1/3 college payment plan.
- Listening to me preach now and then.
- Working your tail off to provide for the family.
- Not disowning me when I quit PSU against your wishes.
- Having the guts to throw me out of the house (see #16). For the record, I deserved it.
- Taking me back into the house after I wised up a tad.
- Reading my book on peacemaking when it gets published. Don’t you love the presumption?
- Allowing for our personality differences.
- Being able to fix just about anything.
- Putting those gadgets in your ears.
- Supporting me through seminary.
- Helping Vista Church purchase a video projector.
- Contributing generously to the Joshua Place Playground.
- Helping me negotiate the deal for that orange VW Beetle.
- Encouraging me to marry Nancy.
- Wearing a tux at my wedding (see #26).
- Not forcing me to ride a dirt bike.
- Tossing the football with me in the yard.
- Caring deeply for all your children.
- Never using sarcasm with me as a put down. Well, there was that one time, BUT REALLY, THAT WAS IT.
- Doing the grocery shopping.
- Single handedly driving up Aldi stock.
- Same for Steak & Shake (see #34).
- Making a killer pizza.
- Keeping fit in spite of #36.
- Caring about the science behind claims.
- Opening your home to others. Think cousin Howie. That took guts knowing that wild and crazy but hugely lovable character!
- Giving generously to your kids when you make a killing in real estate.
- Permitting me to omit Formula 1 from my list of personal passions.
- Being there at the hospital for my cancer surgery.
- Making wise investments to benefit our family.
- Persuading me to go to Penn State.
- Supporting my call to pastoral ministry.
- Caring about your grandchildren.
- Never shaming me for my lack of athletic ability even though you have always been a jock.
- Letting me run the attic fan on hot summer nights in the Berwyn house.
- Getting me the job with GE one summer assembling modular homes.
- Never, ever whining.
- Listening to me whine.
- Having the courage to make huge decisions–like relocating cross country–twice.
- Letting me fish off the MI house dock. Remember those two huge drum I caught that day?
- Teaching me to change the oil in my car. For the record I go to Jiffy Lube now.
- Always ending our phone calls with, “Love you, man.”
- Attending my graduations.
- Showing patience through my battle with CFS.
- Not Baker Acting me for moving to the Idaho wilderness.
- Saying “No” to my request to take on a paper route. What in the world was I thinking?
- Coaching me through the torture then known as the new math in Mr. Donnely’s 7th grade class.
- Not rolling your eyes that grading period in high school when I flunked gymnastics (see #47). Hated gymnastics.
- Making conversation more important than watching TV when I visit.
- Springing for the vacation of a lifetime at Green Acres in the Catskills. What was a nice Gentile family like ours doing in a place like that anyway?
- Teaching me to drive a stick shift.
- Letting me drive the Mercedes when I got my license (see #64).
- Never calling me stupid for failing back then to appreciate #65. Man, I’d love to own that rig now!
- Never tooting your own horn. You really are a humble man.
- Sending mom to help with the newborns.
- Respecting relational boundaries.
- Listening attentively. I’m amazed at your self-discipline in not interrupting others.
- Being a man’s man.
- Giving me hope about that other mansion we talked about one day not too long ago. I keep praying.
- Being the motor head all motor heads everywhere envy.
- Recording the family history.
- Modeling extraordinary perseverance.
- Quitting driving when the time comes. More presumption. I’m counting on you for this, Pop.
- Doing any project the right way or not at all.
- Making me help build that stupid wall at the Berwyn house. BUT NOT FOR HAULING THOSE RAILROAD TIES!
- Always being yourself.
- Not holding grudges.
- Having a living will.
- Not giving me a middle name (see yesterday’s questioning around the table–really, I’m not upset about it).
- Reaching 84.
- Not expecting me to do this again when you hit 104.
Love you, pop. You’re the best!
Question: With apologies to those who have no positive memories about their dad for whatever reason, for those who do, what is something you admire most about him? You can leave a comment by clicking here.