With Father’s Day coming up Sunday, I’d like to honor my Dad with a little story, an illustration of the man he was and the incredible things he did for me.
It was the morning of my 5th birthday. I’ll never forget it. I bounded out of bed and down the stairs, a bratty and spoiled only child, with high expectations, looking for lavish gifts, cake and candles, and accolades, the whole works. I arrived in the kitchen and my mom greeted me with a sweet “good morning”, but there was nothing special anywhere. Hmm. Not good for a 5 year old.
Then I realized my dad wasn’t there. My hopes rose. Maybe he was out getting the big present. Maybe a bike. Or a tractor. Or at least a new baseball glove. So I waited awhile as I ate breakfast, and then asked where he was.
Mom replied, “In the cellar.” I cringed. Neither my dog Rex nor I were allowed down into the basement without an escort. The last time I had been down there, seemingly eons ago, there had been chaos because there was a dead mouse that Rex, who had zipped down the stairs when mom went to get a broom off the landing, was attempting to devour.
On this day, I was anxious to see my dad, but a little trepidatious about descending into what still in my mind was a very foreboding place. When I asked mom if I could go down, she opened the door and yelled, “Bob, can Jimmy come down and see what you’re up to?” I craned my neck closer so I could hear the response. “You bet,” he said. “I think everything is ready.”
Rex raced ahead of me as I slowly went down the stairs, wondering what could possibly be going on in that scary dungeon. I don’t know what I expected to see, but in my mind there was no way it could be good. Was I wrong.
Instead of the dark and foreboding place I remembered, I entered a wonderland, the magnitude of which I could barely fathom at my young age. I hardly heard my dad say “Happy Birthday!” as I gazed upon mountains and tunnels and buildings and streets, all joined together and traversed by… train tracks! And model trains, clackety-clacking around the set like right out of a movie.
I was blown away. I’d never paid much attention to trains before, but this was unbelievable. I examined each car from the caboose forward and loved every one. They were Lionel trains, the cream of the crop, and each car was a perfect replica of their full size parents.
The basement was quickly transformed into my favorite place in the world. I still to this day am blown away by my dad’s creativity. The train set might have been a model, but to me it was every bit the real thing. I wonder how many dads take the time to build a model train set for their kids anymore?
He was always exposing me to things he thought would broaden my horizons, a few I’ve actually written about. There were the trains, of course (“Taking the Train”) as well as the infamous trip to see America’s flagship the SS United States when I was 10 (“Lady in Waiting”). There were the many hours he spent teaching me lessons about life through golf (“A Father’s Day Perspective”). And so many more.
All of these things have stayed with me and framed me into the person I am today. And had a profound impact on my life. Thanks to my dad.
Some of us have been lucky to have had a warm and loving dad for most of our lives. Others haven’t been as fortunate. Which is sad. Very few things in life beat a father’s love.
So to you dads out there, never stop loving your children. Find ways to make them feel special. Find things to broaden their horizons. Find ways to show them how much you love them and how much you care.
I was blessed to have my dad as long as I did. I could never adequately express the gratitude I have in my heart for what he gave me. But I can sum it up by saying to my dad, and to all the dads out there:
Happy Father’s Day.
