Father's Day

On this day as we honor our fathers, I want to honor mine, who is now at home with his Heavenly Father.  I miss his quiet presence and his sense of humor, his slender bearing and dignified, gaited walk.  I can still see him, in the latter years of his life, sitting in his favorite kitchen table chair with his hand cupped behind his ear to catch the words of the TV westerns he enjoyed.  I remember the little note pad and pen he carried in his shirt pocket along with a box of Luden's cough drops.  I can still hear his affectionate term for my mother: "Bobbi Jo".  He coined her nickname from the TV show "Petticoat Junction", and it stuck. 

I remember looking at his work-worn hands in his latter years and noticing his immaculate grooming habits.  He was always a "snappy dresser".  He loved my coconut cream pie, and enjoyed a good cup of coffee.  I can still see the teasing look on his face as he gave a few loud "slurps" with the coffee cup to his lips and then let out a satisfied "aah" as he grinned.  Table manners were very important to him, but around family, he broke the rules with his coffee-sipping.  He enjoyed eating out and observed fastidious decorum.

I remember the low, hand-made 4' x 6' play table covered with linoleum and little chairs he made for us kids so we'd have a place to do puzzles, color, cut, paste and draw.  I remember the pleasure I felt as a six-year old when daddy would take us for a drive in our Kaiser-Frazer on those sweltering Virginia evenings and then stop for an occasional ice cream cone on the way home.  I can still picture the "Cap'n Bull" watch fob on his belt loop when he'd come home from a day of running the D-9 Caterpillar bulldozer at the Naval yard in Norfolk when we lived there before we move to Pennsylvania and farm life.  I remember how he taught me to drive and took me to get my driver's license at age  sixteen.

The poem below is my tribute to my dad on Father's Day.

The Measure of a Man

My dad was not a speaker

Or famous, as they say.

Farming left him with much work

And not much time for play.

Some may say that daddy failed;

His net worth wasn't large.

But faithful prayer was always made

For those within his charge.

Tell me, you who think you know,

What value do you place

On children who were taught the right,

And have God's saving grace?

By Elaine Beachy

June 17, 2012

Copyright © 2012 Elaine Beachy