Dad

In 1994 my dad retired at age 58 (soon to be 59). He was a school teacher, basketball coach and legend, and MY dad. He and my mom have 4 children. I'm the fourth, an eight year after thought so to speak. Outsiders say mistake, my parents say miracle. My siblings grew up with our mom taking care of them, running the carpool, providing the after school snack, etc. In third grade my dad took on that role for me and my mom began her transition from housewife to career woman, thus, I am a daddy's girl.

You may not believe it, but my dad is Superman. He drove a rusted Datsun from the 1980's (a signature vehicle that used to embarass me, but later on when anyone would make fun of it, I'd inform them it was his pride and joy) that carried snow blowers, lawn mowers, bricks, carpentry tools, and even four of the neighbor kids and myself during our carpool rotation. As mentioned before, he was and is a basketball legend. He won state titles as a Hayti Redbird and won a national title at SDSU (Go Jacks!). He was one of the top 500 basketball players in the nation, was the only child of 11 to go to college and paid his way through from a basketball scholarship and sold fruit and sandwiches to students after the commons closed. He snowblows the neighbor's driveways, ventures in the Datsun to my grandpa's and cleans a path for him, mows lawns, builds housing additions for friends, runs 5 days a week and does yoga 3 days a week.

The catch is, he doesn't complain. His coaches brag to me about my dad's athletic talent and I've witnessed his carpentry/lawn jobs otherwise I wouldn't know a drop of it. He is a humble man and only raises his voice if we disrespect our mother. His baking abilities are superb and he may be the most organized and cleanest man I know.

I live my life in regret of not loving him enough. I don't say "I love you" to my parents. It's not comfortable for me but when I leave the house and my cat is at the back door, I tell her I love her. It has never made sense to me. My dad has provided our family with so much. He is incredibally generous and the best friend any person could ever have.

The fifth commandment, "Honor your mother and father" is simple. Treat your parents well (we all turn into them someday somehow :)), show them you care. Why is it so difficult though? My dad greets me at the door with a big hug saying "Well hi sweetheart" every time I come home. When I leave to go back to school and venture the 45 minute drive south, tears well up in his eyes and he says, "Ok, buckle up, lock the doors, call when you get there. 65 is an ok speed."

"Ok dad."

Sometimes I spend the 45 minute drive bawling, asking God to forgive me for how cruel I have treated my father through actions or words. My dad is 50 years older than me. When he is 100, I'll be 50. My friends will have their parents around much longer and I wonder how I can make up for the past and treat my father well and treat him the way he deserves.

The infamous scripture of love in 1 Corinthians "...and the greatest of these is love" is what I need to live by. All we need is love. Knowing God's love, sharing God's love, loving friends, loving family, loving God's amazing earth he has blessed us with.

I need to learn to love. My father has and always will love. He loves the Lord and his wife more than words can explain. He'd give up anything to save the life of one of us kids and even his grandchildren. People say to not live in regret, but I can't help but feel guilty that I haven't loved my father enough. God says it in the Bible plain and simple. LOVE! So the best way to start repaying my Father in heaven and my father on earth is just this: I love you dad.