The First Man in my Life

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It's not Father's Day, not even close to it.  It's Saturday, October 12, and it's UNI's Homecoming weekend.  Isabella had a sleepover here last night, celebrating her 10th birthday, which was September 19th.  I know it's late, but thankfully, she's not one to be upset about this...she knew when our schedule cleared up, we'd celebrate with her friends.

Thinking of what we have in store today, makes me think of my dad.  Not because I had a childhood filled with going to football games, tailgating with friends, or morning runs for Hy-vee donuts (which is what Tyler did with the girls for breakfast this morning), but because these were all things I did not get to do with my dad, but wish I did.

I remember being jealous of my friends that did tons of stuff with their dads...true daddy's girls in my eyes.  Not until recent years have I learned to appreciate all the things my dad did do for me to help me be the woman I am today.  And all he did for me fills my heart with pride to be his daughter.

I guess thinking about my dad goes back to a couple of weeks ago when I walked through an The Journey to Freedom, an exhibit put on by Prairie Lakes Church on human trafficking.  Out of the many things that stuck out in my mind, one was that people fall into the trap of human trafficking due to a void in their life.  And one type of void is the one created when a father chooses to leave his family, his children.

Which again, causes me to think of the first man in my life, my father.

My dad grew up during the Great Depression.  He was smart, a hard worker, and a very handsome fellow.  He's told me amazing stories about his childhood, and his early adult years...stories that I'm just now starting to appreciate.  I hope he'll write these stories out someday, just so future generations of my family can know this amazing man.

He was of the generation of men that started a career at one firm, and retired from that same firm.  For my dad, that firm was Arthur Andersen, LLP, a former big 5 accounting firm.  He retired as a partner in 1990, which is when we made the move to Iowa so he could begin his life-long dream of farming.  I've never really met anyone quite like him.

Growing up, my dad was never around. He worked all the time.  He traveled a lot. But although I didn't see him much, I knew how much he loved me.  I don't know how, since he didn't spend a lot of time with me.  I just knew.

I spent most of my life afraid of him, because I knew how much he expected of me, of everyone around him, and there was little room for error.  He was a perfectionist, and I never really felt like I could measure up.  I didn't want to disappoint him. But during the weekend, when he had a little time, he would sit, offer his lap to me, and I would climb up onto it, and there was no place safer I'd rather be.

My dad taught me the strength in a firm handshake, he taught me how to look people in the eye, smile, and greet them. He taught me how to set a table properly for guests, and how to sit quietly and politely while he entertained clients and colleagues in our home.  He taught me the importance of a first impression, and how to ask open-ended questions in order to keep a conversation going.  He taught me a lot of things.

He taught me the power of positive affirmations...I still remember the 5 "I am" statements he would have me repeat out loud to him as often as he was around..."I am beautiful.  I am smart..." As a teenager, I'd get so embarrassed, but now I know that these little things helped mold my self-image, and helped me ward off the insecurities that so often creep in for young adults.

Looking back, my dad was a man who wore many hats, with many loves.  I remember one of his closets housed 5 dark suites, 7 white shirts, several ties, and 5 pair of perfectly polished black wing tips...one for each day of the work week.  To say my dad is the most conservative person I know is an understatement.

During the week he was the managing partner of the Peruvian branch, meeting with high level executives, giving them advice, and ensuring their adherence to the ethical standards in place when it came to their financial statements. He was also something of a tax expert, helping them make decisions that would help their bottom line, ethically of course.

When dad talked, people listened. Even as a little girl, I knew that he was well trusted and respected. I would walk into the office he was in charge of, and his coworkers would dote on me. Not until many years later did I realize how many people's lives he impacted. He knew how to draw out the best in people. When I was older, I showed him a book that had impacted me..."How to win Friends and Influence People" by Dale Carnegie. And he told me that book had been as important to him and his staff, as the Bible was to a Christ follower.

During the weekend, he would trade all of it in for a pair of worn jeans or khakis and a white t-shirt. I remember how he would quietly stand and water, row after row of vegetables he had planted. I remember him tending to the rabbits and guinea pigs he raised. I remember carting his black wingtips to the back of our property in my little pink play grocery cart, so he could meticulously polish them, as I patiently watched him or played with the bunnies and chickens next to him.

After the busyness in his week, the weekends he spent at home, I remember how STILL he was. By his actions, he showed me how to value the precious time he had where he could be still, without filling his schedule with more on the weekends.

Today, my dad is retired from public practice. He works his land and his business in the same conscientious and diligent manner he managed his public accounting practice.

As I reflect on my father, I think of the balance between being busy and being still. I always wondered why my dad didn't take on any of the any consulting projects offered to him after retirement. And I get it now.

He made a choice. A choice Ty and I find ourselves making every day for each other and our two kids.

The world is a different place today. Gone are the days when every weekend would find every kid in the neighborhood running around playing well into the dusk hours. Or hours of board games, weekends spent baking, cooking, or canning, or basketball pick-up games in the driveway. I get kind of nostalgic, thinking of the ways things must have been back in the day.  The days where time moved at a slower pace.  We've replaced these simple joys with loading up our families into our vehicles to travel an hour or more away to weekend soccer tournaments, gymnastics meets, swim meets, etc.

And don't get me wrong. Our daughter, Isabella is a competitive gymnast. She's at the gym 12 hours a week, not counting the 9 or 10 meets we have scheduled through January. She's also a competitive dancer, at the dance studio 3 hours a week. Cooper is in preschool, and does gymnastics and Awana Cubbies once a week each.

Each season we have to determine what our kids can handle well, and adjust our schedules accordingly. For this season, our family has figured out how to spend time together, be still, and be active... For now, it works.

And each season we will have to reevaluate what the meaning of "busy" and "productive" are. I don't want us to be "busy" chasing after too many different dreams at once.

Ty and I agreed a long time ago that we would help our kids excel at one or two areas they showed talent and passion in, rather than be involved in too many activities, and just be average at them.  We want to teach our kids that sometimes we have to say "no" to things that make up a good life so we can say "yes" to the things that can lead us to a great life.  And every family is different, every child is different, this is just what has worked for us.

My dad is a different man now, than he was when I was a child.  I think it's a lot to do with him being still, not having as busy and as stressful a schedule as in the past.  Over the years, I've seen how tender my dad is with our kids.  When Isabella was small, my dad would see her, immediately go down on one knee, and talk to her at her level, building trust and love with her.  He does the same with Cooper.  He smiles all the time.  His eyes light up with joy when he sees them.  And my kids adore him.  All the things I wanted for myself, my kids have with him. And I wouldn't have it any other way.  When Isabella spends time with my dad, she is gentle, quiet, and at peace. She spends time with them on the farm to get away from her productive schedule. She spends time with my dad, and is still.

My point in all of this is that people do change.  What I so desperately wanted for myself as a child, I now see my dad giving our kids.  I didn't know what I was doing when I was younger, but I remember asking God over and over again for what I have today with my whole family...peace, acceptance, warmth, comfort, joy, love.  I finally belong somewhere, and my kids do too.  God is good, God is faithful, and I believe wholeheartedly that even when I was going through what I thought was so hard during the first 30+ years of my life, God had a plan all along to redeem all the sorrows.  He was there in the midst of all of it.

And today, I seek to do as my father has done and modeled in his life...

"Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before" 1Thessalonians 4:11 (NLT)