Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is a very special day! Eighty years ago on this day, my precious Dad was born! I am so grateful to him for being a wonderful Dad and grandfather to my family and me. He has taught me so much about life, unconditional love, laughter, integrity, music, faith and perseverence. I will thank God through my last breath for blessing me with such an incredible Dad.

Dad has taught me a lot about family. I have countless memories of him through my childhood that are wonderful examples of parenting. He is patient in life and with those he loves. He loves his family and never stops loving or caring for us. He believes in God and living for Him no matter what. He is generous in helping others, loving others, laughing with others, serving others and caring about others...even if he doesn't know them. He is faithful to our country. Dad served in the Korean War...was wounded and awarded a Purple Heart...and I have never heard him criticize his country no matter how tough times may become. Dad is a hard worker. Even at 80 years of age, he always has another project...or several...to work on. I often remind him to try to take it easy. He always seems happy when he is working. And whatever he does...he does well! Nothing is done half-way. Dad believes and lives for God. Even when life is difficult, unfair or frustrating, he doesn't question why...but tries to find the right way to handle it. Dad loves unconditionally, consistently and selflessly. He is genuine and kind. He is polite, gentle yet unafraid to be firm when he must stand for truth or what he believes. Dad is truly "the real deal."

As a little girl....I remember Dad always being very involved in our lives. It was not unusual for him to play baseball, croquet, badmitton, horseshoes, cards or games with us...all five of his children! We always loved when he came home from work on paydays. There would be something special for us to share...including those wonderful orange circus peanuts. We just knew Dad would make that day special for our entire family. A tradition I carried into my own family now is the "Friday Night" celebration. Dad always made it a special time whether we watched a special show on tv, had a special snack, played games...or sat on the front porch talking. It didn't have to be "major"...it was simply...special.

I also remember some wonderful one-on-one time with him. If Dad was changing the oil in the car, I was there to "help." If Dad was driving the tractor to my Granddaddy's farm, I "had" to ride with him. When I was little, I would sit in his lap or on the tractor seat. But once I was a "big girl," I rode on the tractor fender all by myself after being firmly reminded where/how to sit and hold on! When I was small...around two years of age...in the days before carseats...and Dad drove the pickup truck to the store or to a neighbor's house, I had my very own special spot. I stood on that seat right beside my Daddy...and put my left hand on his right shoulder! We talked. We laughed. I asked him questions...lots and lots...and LOTS...of questions. Soooooo many questions that Dad finally had to find a more permanent and peace-promoting answer..."Terri, it's that way to make little girls ask questions!" I still sometimes hear that response...even now! From what he says, I have always been inquisitive. I really don't think that will ever change! :) But we didn't just talk. We sang...lots. I remember him teaching me songs like "Down By The Old Mill Stream"..."Jesus Loves Me"..."When The Saints Go Marching In" and lots of other songs. Dad taught me...how to teach...by letting me watch...and do...and ask...and "help" him when he was working. I loved sitting on his work bench when he was building furniture, shelves, etc.. To this day, when I smell sawdust or go into a Lowe's or Home Depot Store...I think of him. We went to lumber stores, too. It doesn't bother me one bit to this day to have a hammer, screwdriver, level, paintbrush or wrench in my hand. And...it was always fun when I drove my VW to college...and he reminded me to check the oil, fill the tank...and adjust the clutch, if necessary! I was even able to help some college friends when they needed me to "pop the clutch" for them during their own car repair moments. I was always sure to carry tools with me when I traveled which, of course, Dad had placed in my VW "just in case." Yes...Dad taught me lots! :)

Dad never got upset with me when I made honest mistakes. Of course, when I did something wrong, all he had to do was look at me...and I knew to never do it again. It wasn't that he wanted to scare me. Just realizing that I had disappointed him or did something that wasn't right or respectful...was enough to change my behavior. Of course there were times I lost privileges...like my stereo or bike...but he never made me feel worthless. He simply taught me responsibility! Then there were those times when I caused some "interesting moments." Around five years old, I broke my leg. It had lots to do with my horse stomping me which initially caused an unknown hairline fracture...and then playing leapfrog...when that same fracture grew into a major break from my knee down to my ankle. Dad remained calm...wrapped my leg with an Ace bandage...and saved me from major surgery by his quick thinking and calm response. I feel bad that my parents had to carry me around for six weeks since my cast was from my foot to my thigh. But...it was ok...no complaints from them. I just sat on the porch during the day and sang those songs Dad taught me. There was the time I drove my bike down the hill...and surprisingly crossed the fence...without the bike. Dad was at my Grandfather's farm...came to get me on the tractor...wrapped his handkerchief around my torn finger...didn't fuss about my missing glasses...and took me home without one negative comment. Oh yes....then there's the time I tried to drive his "three speed on the column" pick up truck while I was also trying to learn to drive for the first time. He didn't have much tolerance for that...but he didn't fuss. He just told Mom that he couldn't do that any longer. (I finally learned to drive...and later bought a 4-speed on the floor manual transmission VW!)

Dad is a man of faith. He has always wanted his family to know God, as well. As children, my four brothers and I were taught the Bible...and what it meant. I can remember standing in front of the fireplace and reciting ALL the books of the Bible...OT and NT...from Genesis to Revelation...at around five years old! We named the apostles, the Ten Commandments, learned to search for books/chapters/verses at very young ages...and we knew that Church time meant that's exactly where we would be! But even more importantly, I grew up seeing my Dad sitting in his chair reading His Bible...regularly. He didn't announce it. He didn't mention it. He just did it...consistently. That influenced me the most. We never ate a meal without praying and we always knew that people were to be treated with respect. Dad walks what he talks!

Dad is gifted! He built our home a couple years before I was born. He could look at something and build it. Better yet...he could not see something...create it in his own mind...and build that, too. His house, furniture, buildings and projects were never made without being built to the very best of his ability. Dad could make a garden and knew just when to plant, etc. He can hunt, fish, cook, refinish furniture...and sing! He rebuilt the engine in my VW when it broke down. Dad was the worship leader at my home Church when I was growing up. Wow! And when he found out that I sang and played piano at a young age, he didn't hesitate to encourage me...or my brothers in our music interests...or anything else we did and do. Some of my greatest childhood memories are sitting at the piano...with my legs not even reaching the floor yet...and Dad standing beside me singing. We would sing folk songs, Christmas songs, hymns, country...but I don't think I have ever heard him singing rock songs...except Jingle Bell Rock. :)

Most of all, Dad continues to teach me to never, ever give up. Whether as a child, teen, college student, young adult, wife, minister's wife, mother, woman or child of God, Dad has taught me through example to not give up! He believes in seeing the Truth, accepting what is or is not, doing our very best in whatever we do...and never giving up even when...especially when...life is unfair, challenging or overwhelming. Dad has taught me to persevere in my faith, family and future. Somehow,in the middle of each moment of life, there is a purpose, plan, promise and peace that we cling to no matter how tough life becomes. My wonderful Dad lives his life like that and whether it's in my blood or in life-lessons, I have been blessed to continue learning that from him. It is my hope and prayer that my own children....Rachel, Micah, and our little JennaBeth in China...will learn those same lessons that he taught me.

Happy Birthday, Dad! May your life be blessed as richly and beautifully as you have blessed the lives of so many others in this world! I love you, Dad...and will always be your "little girl."
Cherishing the blessing of my Dad,
Terri and Family