Friday, August 6, 2010

Happy Birthday, Dad

Dad would have been 81 today. I find myself thinking about him quite a bit lately. It was his good financial management that has given me the resources to comfortably purchase my house. He would be delighted that we are moving to Capital, and would want to know all the details. I found myself evaluating houses based on how easy it would be for Mom and Dad to get in-- even though it's been over a year since Mom died and almost a year since Dad died. I think he'd like the house and the church. He'd be so proud. He'd worry about services for Daughter and how she was handling the move. He'd want to offer advice on financing, furniture placement, and changes I should make to the house. He'd love the front porch, and want me to buy a swing for it. He'd probably buy me one as a housewarming gift, and then supervise its installation.
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One of the blessings that came out of Mom's dementia and loss of her her verbal skills was that Dad had to communicate directly with us. I think all of us got closer to him in the last few years. Dad and I didn't always get along. We were often at war during my teenage years, but not about the things daughters and fathers usually battle about it. We often argued about politics and religion. When I'd get frustrated with him, I'd retreat to my basement bedroom and read my Bible. I found it comforting to think that I had a heavenly Father who loved me when my earthly father was being difficult.
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One of our biggest battles was over college and career. He wanted me to go to an engineering school with a strong co-op program and become an electrical engineer. He promised to buy me a new sports car if I'd agree to go there. I wanted to go to a small, church related college and prepare to go on to seminary and become a minister. I told him I was called to ministry. He told me God had given me a gift for mathematics which indicated a call to engineering. I told him if God had wanted me to be an engineer, God would have given me a love for it, as well. When he finally resigned himself to the fact that I wasn't going to become an electrical engineer, he insisted that I go to one particular college. I didn't want to go there for a variety of reasons. He informed me that if I wanted him to pay for my college, that was where I would go. I went.
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He continued to pressure me to go into business, and I continued to refuse. I took one accounting course to shut him up, and hated it. Mom was telling me that while he was pushing me toward business he was telling everyone at the church they had recently joined that his oldest daughter was going to be a minister. It took him longer to admit to me that he knew he'd lost that battle.
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When I finished seminary, it was hard for women to find calls. I ended up moving back home, which was challenging for everyone. In my search for a church, the one that jumped out at me was Inner City. I told myself he'd never let me go there, but he was reading over material and commented that that looked like a good church. I knew that wasn't Dad speaking, that was God. He was very proud when I was ordained and installed as pastor of Inner City. He was very supportive, and when I bought my house there they came and he did some work on it. He and Mom would come to Inner City and here to Tiny Village to take care of Daughter so I could go to conferences. They came to our home because the knew it would be easier for Daughter if she were able to remain in her familiar routine. I was amazed by how easily he accepted and welcomed Daughter into the family.
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When Dad came to Tiny Village to visit, he loved to sit out on the porch swing. There had been a porch swing at the house where he lived as a child. I remember going to visit grandparents in the summer and Dad sitting out in the porch swing and talking to Grandad, who'd sit next to him in his wheelchair. We'd be doing something in the house and realize that Dad was missing, and find he'd gone out to sit in that swing.
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I think I'm going to get a glider to put on the porch at our new house. Daughter and I will sit there in the evenings. She will be getting her mommy time, I will be remembering Dad. Happy birthday, Dad!

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