For the last two weeks, I’ve received the normal spate electronic advertisements from Harry & David, 1-800-FLOWERS.com, Amazon.com and Overstock.com, all of whom think they know what my dad would like for Father’s Day. More power tools. Or sausage and crackers in a gift basket.
Dad, if you really wanted another band saw, I’m sorry I have no idea of what is missing from your woodshop, and my budget is a little tight. And though you’ve thanked me for the Harry&David gift baskets and bowties over the years, nothing got the special reaction as last year’s note to you on this website. It made me so happy to know that my words warmed your heart. When Mom posted a link on facebook to this website a week or two ago, I thought I really should do it all over again. But what else could I say? I mean, “My Dad is the Best Dad Ever” pretty much sums it up. I covered my dad’s best qualities; his selflessness, his devotion, his hard work ethic, and his uniquely Scotts-Irish “gift of blarney.” So what else can I tell the world about my dad? My dad is a Latter Day Saint. I’ve never seen him anything other than cold stone sober; though he was in the Navy and had the cussing vocabulary to back it up before joining the church, as far as I remember the worst we’d hear out of him was the occasional “damn it.” I would definitely nominate my dad as a “brand ambassador” for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He never preaches, lectures, or gives off a self-righteous attitude. He doesn’t brag about the time he spends serving others; he just quietly steps up to the plate and does what needs to be done. (Often times, it ends up being the dishes. Or he pulls 3-foot thistles that spring up seemingly overnight out from the back yard. Or he babysits the three-year-olds in the nursery at church, calming the most hyperactive of them with his special gentle voice or an engrossing story. Or he spends the entire summer rebuilding the deck. Or he takes one or both of his two lovely granddaughters out walking. I suspect my dad’s the youngest looking, most active septuagenarian in the Midwest).
Dad has a unique sense of humor. Or maybe I’m the only one that thought putting marbles in the freezer over the weekend when my older brother was in high school to make sure he’d be “up” Monday morning was funny. But we both used to laugh hysterically when it was just us two in the car, with my dad, and we’d yell, “Wiggle the tail or we’ll put you in jail!” to which he’d respond by rapidly swerving the rear end of the car back and forth, which drove us wild with excitement and delight. But telling his great qualities or even a few stories doesn’t really do justice to explain the main point I want to get across: How much we all love Dad. How can I describe the depth of admiration, love, and appreciation I have for this man? Words don’t seem up to the task. I owe my dad so much, and words seem like a paltry thanks.
Monumental action, I believe, is the best way to show Dad, instead of telling Dad, what he means to me. Herculean effort is required; but I’m no Hercules. A year after announcing on this website that I am working along with a special producer to bring Dad’s characters and stories to the silver screen, we still have much work to do to get there. It sometimes feels like the pace of progress is glacial while the demands of life are tidal. But there is nothing I want more in this world than to assist, in some small way, with cementing my father’s legacy. I want to share his comforting and empowering vision with the world; especially for little girls who need role models with strength and courage.
Dad, Happy Father’s Day. You’re still the best.