My happiest moment with my father was when I was six years old. He had fixed up an ancient bicycle for me and took me to a large lawn in a nearby business park. He taught me to ride. I ended up skinning my knees, but not before my Dad held me on my bike as he ran down the hill, holding me upright.
Another came when I was 15, and I was breaking up an old belltower on my grandmother's farm with a sledgehammer and axe. I hit one board, and it swung back at me and drove a rusty nail into my toe. As I we drove to the nearby doc-in-a-box, I must have given the impression that I was about to faint. My Dad, driving, looked at me, got a very serious expression on his face, looked back at the road, and floored it. It was then that I knew that my Dad cared about me (this is not necessarily self-evident to a 15-year old).
What is your best memory of your Dad?
Sunday, June 21, 2009
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"What is your best memory of your Dad?" The last time I ever saw my father. It was September of 2007 and my father was in the final stages of terminal cancer. I took my guitar and sang some of his favorite hymns. I prayed for my father. Then he took me by the hand and prayed. This was surprising to me as my father was not given to public prayer. He gave thanks for me as his son. He spoke of his pride in me as his son. He asked God to have his hand upon me. That was on a Wednesday afternoon. He died on Friday morning. I preached his funeral on Sunday. I still remember the sound of his voice.
I worked with my father for a while before he retired. Riding back and forth to work together was good but the times we would visit after he retired and talked shop were the best. It felt great to talk as equals and share stories of shared experiences.
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