My Father's Optimism and Sunshine

I live in California today because my father brought his family here from the Midwest in 1965. 

It was a brave thing at the time to move so far away from family.  He had a wife and 3 small children and he was rising the ranks as a computer programmer in the oil refinery industry.  He was 26 years old when Pure Oil sent him to IBM classes.  My parents were some of the youngest families to transfer here when Pure Oil was acquired by Union 76.  The move probably saved my mother’s life as well.  Soon after she moved to California, she was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and was treated successfully, aggressively, by young doctors at UCLA. 

I’m past the ½ century mark myself, but increasingly each year I find myself a little lost each Father Day.  This large measure of a man, my father, has given me a foundation and whispered wisdom in my ear, on the phone, and now in email.  He is human, and despite my own personal desires to always have him around as coach and counsel, there is the unquestionable truth that he will not walk on the earth forever.  He will live forever – in his words and deeds – in his abundant example of unconditional love and patience.  In the way he could explain the nuances of an umpire call in baseball with the same grace that he could break down how to do a math problem.  He had biblical wisdom but you rarely knew as a child that the advice came from God – my father was like God to me.  Strong, filled with hope, overflowing with love, and quietly and firmly expecting sound heart and mind and spirit from me and each of my siblings.  This too shall pass – he would share to comfort us when times were troubling.  To whom much is given much is required – he would explain when he helped others.   We’ll start over or we’ll make more – when financial impacts swept us off our feet.   He has Midwest roots but it seems he always belonged in California  - where there is optimism and sunshine. 

He is not able to get around as much.  He doesn’t like talking on the phone for very long. 

I’m going to spend time in the company of my Father, asking him questions, and prompting him to tell me (again) his most interesting life stories.   I’m not going to buy him anything except perhaps a little toffee from See’s Candy.  All he ever really wants is to spend time with his family, gathering around a meal, telling stories, watching sports, catching up on what all of us are doing. 

My father was acting, singing and directing community theatre as a young man in Crystal Lake, Illinois.  When the family moved clear across the world to California, he sang in the Pure Oil barbershop and the Episcopal church choir.  I had the special privilege of attending rehearsals with him and witnessing these experiences in community with others. 

But the strongest community he created is the community we experienced in our family of origin.  He took care of his brother, step-mother, and mother-in-law in their end of life journey.  He has a bedside manner that you would expect more from a pastor than from a software engineer. 

In the late 1970’s, I was a pregnant teenager who came to him in shame and tears.  He didn’t judge me.  My son is now an officer with the California Highway Patrol.  He is caring and hardworking like his grandfather. 

In the late 1990’s, I thought I was going crazy during a bout with depression and endless weepiness after a hysterectomy.  My father got in his car and drove over to my home.  He sat on the side of my bed and told me that he loved me and that I was going to be OK.  He gave me confidence that I was capable of working through what I was feeling. 

He loves my mother the same way he loved her when they were young.  He sees the joy and light and giving in her and he sees nothing else.  It is a beautiful thing to behold.

I’ve found that kind of love in my husband.  In 2001, I married a childhood sweetheart.   I returned to college to finish my undergraduate and graduate degrees.   For more than a decade, my parents have prepared meals or watched our dog while I took night classes, or now teach night classes at a community college. 

I practice unconditional love because it was modeled for me most perfectly by my human Father.  I say ‘practice’ because I am still a work-in-progress.  He has given me a gift so incredible that the only respectable thing to do with it is to share it with others.  This gift is not found in any bookstore or mall or any online website.  It is found in the time and patience that we share listening and nurturing others.  If you are at a loss like I am most Father’s Days, I hope you will be able to spend time by the armchair of those that you love.