Father's Day . . . With and Without Dad . . .

Today I enjoyed a date with my dad.

Dad and I, Veterans' Day 2016

Well, if you call a trip to Boscov's for khaki pants and a mattress cover a date. But I was intentional about offering to go with him, an 81-year-old navy veteran, retired gas company employee, artist, and widower. I hadn't been downtown to shop in a long time, so with purchases complete, we meandered around in his usual non-hurried way. He treated me for lunch, and we ended our time in his immaculate kitchen with me demonstrating how to make beef gravy. A nice time together.

I'm blessed. Not everyone can enjoy an ordinary day with his or her dad.

Like my own daughters.

Barry's Old-fashioned Roses, 2017

This is the third Father's Day they mark the occasion with only their memories, memories of a dad who cared deeply for each one . . . and not just about what they were currently doing but about their hearts and what they were thinking and feeling and planning. He had a way of asking questions to help them think it through, work it out, and come to a satisfying conclusion. His insights brought clarity, truthful perspective, and often humor.

How we miss those conversations.

And yet, we carry him with us every day. How many times have we said, "Dad would have loved this." OR "Now, what would Dad say about this decision?" OR "Dad would be so proud."

July 14, 2012

How does a family honor a man we can no longer see and hear and touch? How can we ease the ache of loss on Father's Day? Perhaps, it helps to take time to remember all he gave us while he lived, all he stood for and taught and modeled . . . and to carry out his legacy, that of loving God and others with humility, of learning and growing in ways that span the gulf of time and eternity.

This weekend and beyond, let's take time to honor our dads. A handwritten note, grilling his favorites, listening, making a call. Or taking time to remember . . .

No earthly father is perfect. Some memories may hold pain and regret, disappointment and frustration. If possible, focus on the positives. And let's not forget: we have a heavenly Father who loves and cares for us in the greatest way possible, who will never leave us, no matter what happens. 

"The memory of the just is a blessing . . ." Proverbs 10:7

Mall Stories, Grace Stories

Almost every day, I find myself at the mall. Compulsive shopper? Hardly. I'm there because my dad has to walk. After triple bypass surgery in October, his recovery depends on it. I'm his chauffeur until eight weeks post-op.

Every day, it's the same. We begin our laps outside JCPenney, turn right toward Sears, then pass Old Navy as we head toward Macy's at the opposite end. After about three laps, we find a bench before going around another two or three times. On our "forced marches," as my dad says with a twinkle in his eye, we see the same people. The old guy fast asleep in a chair over his crossword puzzle, the out-of-a-movie cleaning lady with her hair pulled to the top of an expressionless face, the Hickory Farms salesgirl offering free samples, the Bath Fitter salesman pacing in circles around his display. We see walkers, grandfathers wheeling strollers, security guards walking their beats, and sometimes, older couples strolling arm in arm. We wonder about the stories behind the people we see.

On Veteran's Day, after our laps, we went to Applebee's, also at the mall. Veterans received a free meal that day. Dad served in the Navy on the USS Tarawa in the late 1950s. As we entered the restaurant, the Stars and Stripes graced the window. Five flags hung on the wall representing the United States Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and Coast Guard. Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched an elderly veteran hobble in with a cane. Others, filled with pride and memories, crowded the lobby. The manager went from table to table to thank them for their service. I felt proud to be there with my dad.

We both tend to be on the quiet side, but in between the comfortable silences on our route, he tells me my sister called or a friend stopped by with meatballs and pasta. I describe my latest writing project and update him on my kids. Today, as we sat on a bench, he talked about missing my mom and the upcoming holidays without her. I squeezed his hand as emotion choked us both.

Dad begins his cardiac rehab on Monday, so our days at the mall are numbered, but they hold a special place in my heart - and I think in Dad's, too. Last week, he said, "Maybe after I'm driving again, we can meet at the mall to walk." Maybe we can.

It seems to me that real life is a little like our time at the mall. We go by the same places and see the same people every day. Sometimes we find a special event to enjoy or we meet a new friend. As our life stories intersect with the stories of those around us, I hope we will make a difference . . . "faithfully administering God's grace" (1 Peter 4:10).

On Family: It Seems To Me . . .

. . . that family is important. Parents, children, grandparents, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, in-laws all shape our lives directly and indirectly. We belong to each other—and we need each other.

Thirty-four years ago my husband and I spoke our vows surrounded by flowers and a community of family and friends. In time three wonderful daughters entered our household. Two young men have also joined the Phillips family in recent years. And a year ago last November we welcomed an adorable grandbaby named Ty. When my parents join us, we have ten around the table (plus Eva, the dog!). I savor the times when we’re “all together.”

And boy, are we different!

Different personalities, skill sets, opinions, political views, preferences, tastes, incomes, spending habits, etc. . . . I love it that we’re a diverse unit—often reflected in our conversations over coffee and dessert. Sometimes we laugh with (and at) each other; it just can’t be helped!

What makes a family work? How can we nurture a feeling of belonging in the midst of diversity?

Three words come to mind. I think about them often and hope and pray they will consistently characterize our family:

Grace      Acceptance     Respect

I want our home to be a safe place for every family member when they walk through the door. No one is exempt from making mistakes; we all need grace. We may not all agree, but we still need to feel accepted. We hold to a variety of values and beliefs, yet we all need to sense respect. It all works for the best when each of us gives grace, acceptance, and respect in the same way we would like to receive it.

It seems to me . . . that family is important. My husband and I are blessed. Our “kids” (all seven of them now) mean everything to us. Our family’s storyline isn’t perfect but, near or far, we belong to each other. Isn’t that what family is about?