Monday, June 6 is my dad’s birthday. He was a good son, a wonderful husband, a loving father, and a child of God. He so enjoyed spending time with his family, eating, reading, and doing things to help at his church.
He grew up in a family with two parents, three brothers, and a sister.
Dad was usually quiet in a crowd. He always had an opinion, though. It was usually an opinion that resulted from a great amount of thought. He would share his opinion with you if you ask. He never forced his opinion on you, though. I remember him as always learning…whether it was reading the newspaper, learning a new skill or task at work, or reading and studying his bible to learn more about God’s will.
Dad always wanted to serve and help others…he helped those where he worked with a kind word and a mannerly respect. He helped at his church, not for recognition, but because he saw things that needed to be done….and in worship of his heavenly father. Help came foremost to his his family. He always looked to them first. He looked for ways to use teachable moments. He didn’t do it for us, instead he taught us how to do it. I remember asking him to accompany me on the purchase of 2 different vehicles. Each time, he didn’t do a thing, I just needed his presence there. When I purchased a car this year, dad was physically not here. He is in Heaven with Jesus…but I felt him sitting there in the room with me, approving of the transaction.
One of my fondest memories of Dad is traveling in the car going from Ada to McAlester. We went often in the spring and summer and he would visit old friends..give his “girls” time to shop…and we would attend church there. It was at that church that I became aware that I was a sinner in need of a saviour. It was not the church he grew up in, but it was a church we had found as a young family that we loved.
On those drives to and from McAlester, we would listen to the radio. Sometimes we would listen to gospel or country, which my sister and I liked, unlike many of our friends. Sometimes, though, we would ask to listen to a rock station. In the 60s most of the time on rock stations you would hear a group known as the BEATLES. At first everyone is quiet, but pretty soon, sitting in the back seat of our Chevrolet would start singing along, each mile getting louder and louder. My dad was patient, but after a time, he would holler out a line from the song…that the group seem to sing over and over. We would stop singing and then with my mom joining in, we would would laugh til we were crying, and after a few minutes, even dad would be smiling.
Happy Birthday Dad…I love you!