Posted by
The Hermit Crab on Sunday, June 20, 2010 3:15:32 PM
I owe so much love and admiration to my father that trying to write the tribute he deserves is an intimidating task. However, since he's not on the web, he'll never know how short I fell, so here goes...
I never refer to my father as a great man. He would reject the term, and I actually think the word "fine" is more appropriate. Despite the lack of a positive male role model through most of his childhood (I'd say all, but I wasn't there), my father (hereafter known as "Dad" to save typing) managed to turn himself into a fine husband, a fine father, a fine grandfather, a fine great-grandfather, and pretty much a fine everything else he is or has been. Father's Day was invented to honor men like Dad. He is 82 years old now, and convinced he is nearing the end of the trail, which appalls all of those who rely on the old man's sound judgment and good humor. Like me.
Everything I know about being a man I learned from Dad, either directly or indirectly.
A man is honest, and my Dad is definitely that. On my wedding day (I got married at the age of 45), I asked him "Well, Dad, did you ever think you'd see this day?" His answer? "No."
A man keeps his wedding vows. My father has never wavered in his devotion to my mother. The thought is too absurd for consideration. It isn't just the fact that Mom is completely lovable (which is a fact), but it's also the fact that a vow is an unbreakable promise. Dad has this old-fashioned idea that a man's word is his bond. A former employer of mine called for an employment reference said that I am "the most honest man he has met in his entire life". Well, guess where I learned that from.
The lesson I learned most completely from my Dad is that a man needs to know his history. Most of all, you need to learn the unpleasant bits. You must never shrink from confronting the truth, whether it is a truth in your own life or a truth in the lives of others. Consider the Holocaust. Just shaking your head, saying "Wasn't that horrible?", and going no further is of no use to anyone. My wife and my friend A are puzzled at my seeming fascination with historic events of such dreadful import. I try to explain to them that someone had better study these things, because if we don't understand how such things came about before, we can't prevent them from happening again.
Dad taught me that a man must never be arrogant about his intelligence. No-one can know everything, or even one percent of everything. You must always be open to new ideas and new evidence. However, your moral principles are another matter. If you don't have principles you are willing to fight for, than you had better find new ones. Otherwise, you will not earn the respect of others, nor will you deserve it.
My father taught me not to believe everything I saw on the news, read in the paper, or heard on the radio. Boy, did he have that right. He taught me to screen my sources, and to hold the dishonest in scant regard. To this day I cannot tolerate being lied to. Thanks again, Dad!
Dad showed me that is not unmanly for a man to love children, and perhaps especially babies. This lesson all three of his sons picked up, I'm happy to say. The devotion of my Dad's grandchildren (and now great-grandchildren) to their Grampa is perhaps one of the best measures of this extraordinary man.
My father taught me that a man not only professes his faith, but lives and preserves it. I forgot this for twenty years after my older brother died, but luckily God is patient, and so is Dad. The best way I can describe my Dad's Catholic faith is "indestructible".
I'm running out of lunch break, so I'll wind up with a lesson that I am grateful for, even though I'll never have the chance to put it into practice. Dad (and Mom) taught me that a man never strangles his child, even when he deserves it!