Our dad was a gentleman, through and through. He was wise to the ways of the world, and not particularly religious, but he taught us to be considerate of others, to respect property, and to obey the law.
Our mother was Catholic, and daddy respected that. He allowed us all to attend church. At Christmas time, he helped us kids erect the nativity scene in our home, and he also allowed us to decorate our Christmas tree. He helped put it up, and place the star at the top (he made one of those stars out of styrofoam), and he helped with the lights and the ornaments that were too high for us to reach. We picked them out, and he put them on the upper branches.
Dad was present when we made our First Communion, and when we were confirmed – all three of us at three different times. He attended our graduations, and helped us with school projects and assignments.
Our dad was good with his hands. He could make things, and he could carve realistic looking creatures out of wood. That was a good thing, because we didn’t have a lot of money when we were younger, so his being able to make things helped supply us with both toys and furniture. No, the toys didn’t have the store-bought quality to them, but they were definitely unique – one-of-a-kind.
He carved a tiny pair of monkeys out of a peach seed, and made earrings for our mother. I saw them. They were very delicate and intricate. I can only imagine the amount of careful work and time that must have taken.
Dad saved my life, once. I was playing in our lower yard, and saw some white mushrooms growing at the base of our barn. I remembered how much I liked the mushrooms Mama always put in our spaghetti, so right away, and out of total ignorance, I rushed over to these and shouted, “Oh, boy! Mushrooms!” And I was about to pick one when Daddy showed up from seemingly out of nowhere and told me to leave them alone. He then explained they were toadstools, and poisonous. He explained that the mushrooms Mama used were bought in the store, and they were safe to eat, but not these. I shudder to think of what might have happened had he not appeared at that very moment to stop me from making a fatal mistake.
I’ll see you and Mama later, Daddy, in your states of eternal youth. The hope in my heart is that you both are completely happy and bathed in God’s most perfect love.
Amen!
