As Father’s Day rolls around, I’m thinking about my dad. He passed away at age 63, and I miss him so much. I know I’m biased, but my dad was the best, nearly perfect as a father of seven children. I could give many reasons, but that would take too long, so I’ll give you three.
Dad Was Present
Though my dad loved his work and had to travel some, he was nearly always home with us in the evenings. And when he was home, he was fully present with us. We ate supper together every night. Many times after supper, dad made popcorn and sat down with with us to watch TV. He was a quiet man, and didn’t always say much, but I knew he loved me. As a little girl, I crawled into his lap and felt so loved and safe in that special place. When he did need to travel, I knew he missed us, and some of my earliest memories were of dad bringing me a new doll upon returning from a business trip. When we were older, we played the card game Kanasta together as a family. Though I’m sure he sometimes needed a break from seven children, he convinced us he preferred our company to anyone else’s.
Dad Treated Me Like I Was Smart
As I was growing up, some people along the way implied I wouldn’t be great at math. Maybe they said this because I was artistic or because I was a girl—I don’t know why. But dad treated me like I was just as smart as my overachieving older brothers. I was in elementary school when dad explained to me how computers use base 2, while in school we learned base 10. Dad was a computer programmer back when computers were the size of a small bedroom. He spoke to me as if I were an intelligent adult from the time I was in elementary school. This gave me confidence, and later in high school, I won a Math League trophy. Because dad treated me like a smart girl, I became one.
Dad Was for Me
Romans 8:31, NIV: “What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?”
My dad was for me, always on my side against the world. Dad always trusted I had good intentions and gave me the benefit of the doubt. He never raised his voice at me or lifted a hand to harm me. I loved him so much I never wanted to disappoint him. The only time I remember him frowning at me was after I had a car wreck—about the third wreck within my first year of driving. The man had the patience of a saint, and he didn’t even frown until after I’d totaled two cars and then had a fender bender! Perhaps my memory is foggy, but this one thing is sure. I knew my father loved me and would always forgive me no matter what. And this is probably why it was so easy for me to believe in a loving heavenly Father from the time I was little. My loving father was great model. I wish every child had such a father or mother.
What makes a good parent in your opinion? I’d love to hear it in the comments.
I’m an artist who loves to write. If you’d like to get to know me better, please follow me on social media.
My Blog: susanebrooks.com
Instagram @sebrooks81 (Mostly Art)