A Few Thoughts before the (Kind of) Big Day
The calendar informs us that Father’s Day is a few days away. Somebody has suggested that Father’s Day is just like Mother’s Day – except for the fact that fathers get fewer gifts. I’m not going to speculate on whether or not this observation is true. I’m also not going to enter the discussion about whether or not greeting card companies (and other interested parties) may be behind reminders to remember our fathers with a special day.
Instead, what I hope to do in this space is to ask those who read this to learn from one incident on one day of my life. It is a day that can never be recovered and an incident I will never forget. In fact, I remember it with a great deal of regret very often.
Donna and I had moved closer to our hometown in part to be closer to our parents who were needing more and more help. I had gone from being a full-time “located preacher” to being a representative for a Christian university. Donna had quit a teaching position she loved in order to work with me in that position. Suffice it to say that, while our new home was only a very few miles away from our hometown, that didn’t really make much difference because we were on the road a lot. Preaching in various places, visiting with donors, prospective students, etc. took up a lot of time and required us to travel a lot of miles. We tried to “be there” for our parents when they needed us, but, looking back on all of that, I seriously believe that we – especially I – could have done a lot better.
The day and the incident to which I referred earlier took place during this hectic time in our lives. By the time all of this happened, both of my parents were in a nursing home. In fact, I cannot honestly recall now if my mother had already passed from this life or not. What I am sure of is that my father was there.
It was one of those days when Dad had “yet another” appointment with one of his doctors. I thought that I was doing the right thing by taking the time out of my “important” schedule and making sure he got to that appointment.
It was as we walked back into the nursing home that, for some reason and out of the clear blue, my father said, “Jim, you don’t know how hard it was.” When I asked what he was talking about, I found out that he had in mind the fact that, as a very young boy, his mother had passed away. I knew that fact, but I had honestly never considered the effect it could have – and did have – on him.
At about that time, I’m sure that my father sensed my impatience and the fact that I had other things to do and said, “Never mind. It’s not that important.” Those words still ring in my ears about a quarter of a century later.
Now that it is way too late, I truly wish I would have cleared my schedule of all of those “important” things on it. I wish I would have sat down and said to the man who brought me into this world something like, “Dad, please tell me your life story.”
I only know bits and pieces about my father’s life. I have no idea how those pieces fit together to make the man I did not know nearly well enough. To me, his life is like a jigsaw puzzle that I can never completely put together. Sadly, it will always be that way.
I guess that what I’m trying to say before Father’s Day is primarily meant for those who still have their fathers with them. If you are one of those fortunate people, I hope that you will try to make your relationship with your father special — each day during which you have an opportunity. When you look back on your relationship with your father, try to make sure there are as few regrets as possible. As we approach Father’s Day, it also may be a good time – as it is every day – for all of us to assess our relationship with the Father. Surely we do not want to spend eternity regretting never having a good relationship with Him. Surely, we want to approach that “ultimate big day” with the anticipation of a child and not with the reluctance and dread of a stranger or an enemy.
AUTHOR: Jim Faughn