A Gift to my Father

What does Dad want? We ask ourselves this question several times each year.

He may be staunchly resistant to divulging his wish list. Unfortunately, this may result in some potentially horrid gifts. I have to admit, I have witnessed some awful ties, sweaters and pungent aftershaves around the water cooler after gift giving holidays. In confidence, I have even worn a few. What would perhaps be considered the best gift for Dad doesn’t cost anything. It is more than the gift of our time. Maybe we do spend a lot of quality time with Dad, but we are talking about something more substantial than the afternoon beer on the porch. As we get older, we may have forgotten that Dad was once the authority on all life issues we faced.

Our ascension into adulthood did not make him any less the authority. I’m reminded of a time when I faced a potentially volatile crisis. I looked over to see my dad staring back at me intently. I asked him for his advice to which he replied, “I’m glad you asked.” 

Someone once said it takes a village to raise a child. It definitely takes a family. Although some are better than others, good parenting is not a talent but a skill handed down from generation to generation. Often we use our own parents as models for how we raise our children. We hope to use the same good judgment in some situations and avoid their mistakes. I regarded my father’s parenting advice with my children as invaluable. More importantly, my father was more to my children than the nice old guy who always had a dollar to give.

My children will tell you, granddad was Marlon Brando in The Godfather and Tom Hanks in Road to Perdition. He was iconic to them. It is ironic that while parenting is a word, grandparenting is not. Perhaps this is a term that refers to something that only I knew in my own family. There is no difference in the respect I gave my father and the respect I expect from my children. He sat at the head of my table across from me when we ate together, and my children knew he commanded my respect.

As a result, my children showed him the same honor and respect. This would have remained true if he had lived to be a century old. There is no name for this gift I gave to my father every day of my life. I continue giving it in the way I live my life today even after his death. Quite simply, my dad was a father every day.

And perhaps, this gift was the love, honor and respect of his family.

Image Credit: MorgueFile By Alvimann