Every father should remember that one day his son will follow his example instead of his advice.
-- Charles F. Kettering
My dad died at the age of 51, so it goes without saying that I have been navigating uncharted territory for some time now. It's nice to have words of wisdom from someone whose been there before you, but starting at age 19, I was on my own.
I've always been a little jealous of people who quote inspirational or sage advice from their fathers that helps them navigate their various life situations. One friend repeats the line that his father would often say to him as a small boy: "Measure once, cut twice. Measure twice, cut once" -- although I'm more impressed he that can remember it than that his dad said it. In my younger age, my interests in worldly matters would block out any sort of that kind of sensible impute. Another friend said his dad would say, "In this life you must choose whether you are going to be a hammer or a nail." To be honest, I'm not even sure what that means exactly, but it does sound kind of cool. (Unless you ponder his father was perhaps quoting Simon & Garfunkel instead of hard-earned wisdom.) No, what my Dad would say to me was "Mow the yard" or "Go to bed." On weekends, he would up his game to "Clean your room." No great philosophical nuggets there.
Then there are the "life stories" some people quote that their fathers taught them. Once, a former supervisor told a lengthy story about when he was young and his father was working on repairing a flat tire. His father told him to go to the tool box and get him something to remove the tire off the rim. Not knowing exactly what to select, the young boy brought back a screw driver. His father eyed the screw driver, calmly put down the tire and gave the boy several whacks on his bottom. Then looking his crying son in his eyes said, "Son, you should have brought the pliers." What seemed to me a story about poor communication was instead interpreted by my supervisor to be a compelling story about the importance of thinking. He said it guided his life from that point on, and many listeners were genuinely moved by it. My father routinely gave me several whippings with his belt for talking to my brother after bedtime (and several shouted warnings), but all I learned was to whisper better.
When my daughters were becoming teenagers, I decided I wanted to pass on a meaningful life-experience story, so I told them that, when I was in college, to make money, I would challenge people to play me in ping pong, with me using only a text book as my paddle. I never lost and made hundreds of dollars. I explained to them that, while I had practiced often using a book, the people I played had no experience in playing against a book. The moral, I carefully explained, was things aren't always what they seem, and you need to think before spending your money. My profoundness was lost however, and to this day, it is remembered instead as a funny story.
If I remain still and let my mind wonder back into the haziness of memories from time past, my father will make an appearance. He always arrives looking relaxed, fit and to my surprise, younger than me. He never stays long; however, it's always enough to remind me of one trait he never put into words but instead showed me by example every day of his life: He never exaggerated or bragged about himself. In today's world, where so many men love to boast of their latest deal, exploit or travel, my father would always listen patiently, but despite his own accomplishments, never reciprocated. To this day, I woefully but earnestly strive to follow that example.
The theologian Aurelius Augustinus said, "It was pride that changed angels into devils. It is humility that makes men as angels."
No, my old man didn't leave a clever parable for me to remember him by -- instead he left something much more indelible. And fortunately, no hammers or pliers were involved.
NAN Our Town on 07/19/2018