MY FATHER'S GIFT TO ME
I didn't live at home much during my growing up years. I didn't spend much time with my dad, John Stephen. He died 25 years ago at 80 years old. I knew he loved me and that he was always there in the background.
In my younger years all I knew was my present surroundings--the orphanage, my foster family, 5 months at home in 3rd grade, my aunt and uncle in Wisconsin, the boarding high school, one year of college in Indianapolis, my marriage with life in Wisconsin. Through it all ran the thread of my dad's love and his gentle humor.
For most of those years I didn't give much thought to him or what he may have been feeling. Since having my own children I can only imagine his heartache of not having one of them growing up at home with the other 10. I now appreciate his generosity in allowing me to live other places. I had never known him to smoke, drink or be unfaithful. He enjoyed family poker games and sweepstakes, before they were the in thing.
His greatest heritage to me was his quiet humor. Though he experienced great strain with my mom being sick he always had a gentle demeanor. He would see the lighter side of difficulties and encourage us that life is still good. We called him "Pop". His favorite response to us when we were wanting to do something, jumping around chanting, "Can we, Pop? Can we, Pop?" would be to plug his ears and reply, "Sure, go ahead and pop." His nickname for me was Alabama, rather than Georgia.
I often think that my capacity for patience and humor are a legacy from him. His quiet endurance is etched in my spirit. His sympathetic, yet encouraging words echo in my heart. His mischievous smile still tickles my soul.
Pop didn't leave much in material goods, but he gave something more enduring and usable--a sense of humor to soften the blows of life and encouragement that life is good. Thanks, Pop!! I love you.
I often think that my capacity for patience and humor are a legacy from him. His quiet endurance is etched in my spirit. His sympathetic, yet encouraging words echo in my heart. His mischievous smile still tickles my soul.
Pop didn't leave much in material goods, but he gave something more enduring and usable--a sense of humor to soften the blows of life and encouragement that life is good. Thanks, Pop!! I love you.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL DADS EVERYWHERE!
This has been a good Father's Day in the life of Grandma G.
"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." (James 1:17)
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