Five Things I Learned from my Father

I’ve been approaching this day with reluctance ever since the first “Great gifts for dad!” commercials came out right after Mother’s Day. Ever since then, I’ve seen advertisements in stores, heard them on the radio, and received numerous emails reminding me of the holiday I try very hard to avoid thinking about.

Actually, I’m reminded of the fact that, while other people are celebrating with their fathers, I’m still feeling the loss of mine.

This is my fifth Father’s Day without him. And I would be lying if I said I don’t feel bitter at this time of year.

It just gets tiring. It is hard work to attempt to remain unaffected by this day and everything it brings. Not just the advertisements, but sitting through friends’ conversations about their dads, the memories of how I did- or should have- celebrated in the past, and the wishes of how I could celebrate now. For the past four years, I have worked very hard to focus my energy on staying busy so I could ignore this day all together.

But this year I feel differently.

I’m not sure why, really. Maybe it’s that I’ve matured in my ability to wrestle with complex emotions. Maybe it’s just that enough time has passed to allow me to do that. Perhaps it’s some combination of the two. Who knows? Regardless of the reason, though, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I really want to reflect instead of deflect this year.

Rather than using my defensive, “Well, I don’t have a dad anymore” thought, I’ve decided to honor today by remembering who my dad was while he was here, what he taught me, and how he still impacts me today.

So I’ve complied a list of five important things I learned from my dad. There are many, many more, of course.

I could talk about how he taught me about “rights, privileges and responsibilities.” That’s what he’d want me to write about, I’m sure. I could talk about how he instilled a love of good music within me. Or how he taught me to value and cherish life’s small moments.

ut I’m not writing a book- just a blog post. So I thought I’d stick with five for now.

So here are five lessons I learned from the man I am- still- thankful to call my dad:

1: Don’t take yourself too seriously.

I think a lot of people considered my dad to be a serious man. And he was. But he was also full of joy. Anyone that knew him saw his sharp-witted humor, and at home I think we got to see it best. He loved making us laugh. When I was a kid, he loved singing two songs at the dinner table: the “Frito Bandito” song, and one I call “No More Rice Krispies.” I have no clue where these songs originated, but I know it caused fits of laughter from the children at the table (and probably eye rolls from my mother), which I’m pretty sure my dad loved.

This is something I observed in my dad in all of the time I knew him: while he knew how to take things seriously, he was so great at finding- and creating- joy. I admired, and now miss, that so much about him.

2. The importance of following through with your commitments.

(My dad would love that I’m including this on the list.)

When I was a senior in high school, I signed up for Spanish IV. The first day of class, I realized I had no desire to take it and decided to drop out to be a teacher’s aide (which would be much easier). I talked to my dad about this decision, and he really challenged me on it. He told me about a time he dropped a Calculus course because he thought it might be too difficult, but he often wondered afterward what would have happened had he pushed himself. He asked me if I felt okay with the possibility of asking myself that same question in the future.

I told him I didn’t think I’d care and dropped the class anyway, and, of course, he was right- when I got to college I wished I’d taken the class. And now I think about that conversation- and question- often.

That’s not the only time my dad challenged me to follow through with a commitment. (Granted, some of those challenges were me being forced to follow through with things by threat of being grounded, but still…)

I learned not just through him challenges, but also by his example. My dad was remarkably dedicated- to his wife, kids, church, job, community… everything. For example, when he wanted to improve his health, he freaking trained for and completed the MS 150. (So he was a badass, too.) When my dad said he was going to do something, he did it- despite the challenges and obstacles that came with it. He taught me that truly committing ourselves to something can be difficult, but it is rewarding- often for others, and always for us.

3. In line with that, my dad taught me that words should be meaningful.

There was a newspaper article written about my dad after his death in which someone said that everyone listened when my dad spoke because he was always thoughtful with his words; he wanted to ensure he communicated only what he meant, and meant everything he communicated.

As people talked to me after the services, many of them specifically spoke about this characteristic in my father. It was interesting to me that such a thing would be so unique and noteworthy, but I love that it’s something people remember about him. He wasn’t interested in making sure everyone heard him speaking; he wanted to make sure everyone understood what was being said. And I try to remember in my life that there is significant difference between the two.

4. The importance of quality time.

My dad was a pretty busy guy. Between work and being active in the community, he had a lot going on apart from being a husband and having six children. But in spite of that he always made time for us. (Commitment, remember?) He knew when you love people, it’s important to spend time with them- because you won’t always have that opportunity. So he signed us up for Indian Princesses when we were growing up (I think the name has since changed to be politically correct). It’s a group within the YMCA, where dads take their daughters on campouts once a month. (Everyone also gets a Native American name- mine was Flying Pony.) As we got older and became too cool for campouts (and by that I mean they kicked us out because we were too old), he started taking us to Starbucks before school every Friday. I loved this for two reasons. 1. It meant I got to sit in an air-conditioned car instead of having to ride the bus. 2. It meant I got to hang out with my dad for an hour- and I only had to share him with my sister. He loved taking the time to hear about what was going on in our lives. At the time, I’m sure I thought all of that was really interesting stuff, but looking back- I know it probably wasn’t. This makes me even more thankful for those time. It takes a very patient and selfless man to listen to the same teenage stories each week. But the crazy thing is- I know he loved it. Because I know he loved being with us. And I felt the same way.

5. It’s always important not only to see the best in others, but also to help them see it in themselves.

When I spoke at my dad’s memorial service, this is one of the things I said he did- although I still don’t understand how he did it so beautifully.

He wanted to help children in our community reach their potential, so he served on the school board. He wanted homeless individuals and families in Houston to be able to achieve everything they were capable of achieving, so he served an organization to provide economic and educational opportunities. He believed so much in helping people see just how remarkable and precious they are that he dedicated his time to efforts like these when he could have been… well, doing anything else.

Of course, I can speak to this most as his daughter.

The first time I remember my dad telling me he was proud of me was when I was four or five years old. My family was visiting my grandparents, and we were about to go to their church. Normally I would have dreaded going (it felt incredibly long and boring to me at the time), but on this particular day I was pumped. Why, you may ask. Well, because I picked my own outfit out. And while I struggled coordinating colors and normally was the worst at trying to match things, I thought I nailed it this time. I was wearing what was, I now know, a pretty tacky metallic-beaded black dress, and I borrowed my grandma’s clip-on (read: gigantic) beaded earrings to go with it. They really did match perfectly. I thought I looked awesome. But as my family piled into the car to head off to church, no one said anything about my fabulous outfit. Obviously, I was feeling pretty disappointed when we arrived. But then, right before the service began, my dad looked down at me and said, “Kaley, you did a great job matching your earrings and your dress this morning. I’m really proud of you! You look beautiful.”

I felt like a queen.

Obviously- I still remember it two decades later.

He continued to tell me he was proud of me in the following years- for grades, sports, plays, music recitals, getting into college, the way I helped kids at school… so many things. But I knew it was true every time he said it. And it helped me learn to be proud of myself.

Whether through that type of encouragement or even through disciple (which I didn’t enjoy quite as much), my dad always managed to show me that I was capable and worthy of something beautiful.

I can admit it: I'm crying as I sit here and type this, because I am so thankful to know that as a twenty-five year-old woman. It breaks my heart to know there are so many women who don’t recognize it about themselves. It’s definitely a difficult thing to learn today, which helps me see the magnitude of what I was given in my father- even in such a short time.

So, on this Father’s Day and every day, I am immeasurably grateful for the man my father was and how, through living the way he lived and loving the way he loved, he taught me to be the woman I am today.

I love you, Daddy.