There are things that I’d forgotten that I loved about the man” says a line in the country song “Daddy’s Hands”. I have been thinking about that line quite a bit today. For whatever reason Father’s Day doesn’t seem to have the same draw and care that Mothers Day gets, and this year it seems to be buried under all the groups and subgroups that demand attention and respect.
Parents are God’s representatives on earth and therefore deserve, because God demands, that we honor, obey, cherish,serve, and love them. Not because they demand it or demonstrate in the streets to get it, but because we respect and love God.
The years have gone by and many memories of my Dad have been forgotten in all the changes and chances of life. They are recalled at odd times and odd places. The sight of leafy spurge in the ditch brings back dissertations on how bad and invasive that simple looking plant could be and the vigilance he had in patrolling his property to make sure it never took hold. Being surrounded by things that I can’t make work recall all the times I ran to him to fix or explain. His love for the fruits of the earth and the wonder in his eyes at a overbearing June berry bush or a producing apple tree, I have experienced myself mostly because his wonder rubbed off on me.
So Happy Father’s Day, even though it may seem to be slightly depreciated. I hope that the things we all have forgotten about our Fathers May come to mind not just today but everyday. They are gifts.