The Gift The Man I Called Dad Gave Me
The Man I Called Dad
He was not the man who brought me into this world, he married my mom when I was 2, he was the only man I knew growing up as dad though. It was not his temperament or style to compliment or encourage. He was not highly educated but he knew everything he needed to know to be a good dad. He was not compassionate, however he was passionate about so many things in life.
The Man I Called Dad
HIs Passions In Life
The man I called dad was passionate about God and His Laws. Insufferable of a wrong doing he was always quick to right a wrong, punishment was swift, he may not have know how to show the compassion, but he knew the passion of what it meant to do the right thing and why.
He was passionate about honesty, hard work, and nature. A day never passed he did not toil in the fields, planting crops, raising livestock, and interacting with nature. Making sure we always had everything we needed. We always had a roof over our heads, fresh fruit and vegetables, fresh milk and meat. This is what he did day in and day out, our needs were his labours of love.
His passions were not his gifts to us, it was however the legacy he left behind, the seeds planted in our hearts and minds to grow for future use. We were unappreciative of his passions at times, wanting something different, not always recognizing the true value of the passions he shared with us each day just by being there.
The Real Gift
True gifts sometimes manifest in their own time and space, when you least expect them. At the time of his passing all of his descendants came together in one place (except 1 in military training). 10 children including me, 31 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren. Mom assembled us all together and told us grandpa had a gift for all of his grandchildren. A stack of T-shirts was brought out from his closet and from oldest to youngest they were given an opportunity to select a T-shirt. The most sought after gifts were the ones with the grease from working on something, the ones with the paint from one of his many projects, the ones with the stain from wiping on it as he worked. He had left a gift of his labours of love and memories to be cherished and each grandchild wore with pride the stained, worn and tarnished t-shirts.
The other gift he gave was another that was there with us each and every day, so easily overlooked and taken for granted....each other. I appreciate my 2 brothers, 7 sisters and much more than 31 nieces and nephews as the numbers continue to grow.
I appreciate these gifts as well as the seeds he planted I am now seeing burst into full bloom within each of our hearts and minds. I appreciate the man I call Dad sitting here with me now, guiding me to share this gift of love and compassion. Thank you!
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