Remembering Daddy

 

 

Today is my dad’s birthday. I’ve written about him a lot, both here and in my books. Only, he wasn’t called by his name, Bob Day, rather, he showed up here and there as admirable traits in male characters, especially the heroes, because that’s what he was– my hero. I can’t resist mixing  a little of his honesty, strength, and trustworthiness into the character traits of fictional heroes.

I don’t remember Dad ever yelling at me or storming through the house. He spoke quietly but with conviction and we, his children, knew that he was right. We didn’t argue. He always carried through on what he said he would do, not only to his family, but to all who knew him, his word and his handshake were as good as a written contract. I never heard him utter a curse word or tell a lie. And, lest you think he was formidable and unyielding, let me say that he enjoyed a laugh as much as anybody, loved to sing and dance an Irish jig, and his favorite pasttimes were playing checkers and horse shoes. When I was a child, I would climb up on his knees and listen to the ticking of his pocket watch. I don’t know why that was such a big thing to me; maybe it was because I felt completely safe and comfortable when I was near him.

Anyway, this morning, I remember Dad and all the things he stood for. Greatness is achieved, not through fame or fortune, but through strength of character. It is comforting to know that there are people for whom honor and truth still matter. In the words of St. Paul, “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.” (Philippians 4:8) It’s Dad’s birthday, but it seems to me that I am the one who received the gift, the things that he taught me.

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