celebrating the everyday exquisite and the unanticipated updrafts that keep me aloft.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Eight Things I Learned From My Dad and One Thing I Hope Is True
1. “The Lord only made a few perfect heads. The rest He put hair on.” Bald is beautiful.
2. “You can’t take it with you.” Success is not measured by how much stuff one accumulates.
3. “Jerie, pick up your feet.” On backpacking trips and in life you miss a lot if you keep your eyes on the ground and drag your feet all the way. (And the people behind you don’t much like hiking in the cloud of dust you kick up.)
4. “I’ll eat any flavor of ice cream, as long as it’s chocolate.” Need I say more?
5. “Enough is too much already.” It’s OK to leave the margins open and allow yourself some space to simply be. Some pursuits are not worth your time and focus.
6. “Drive like everyone else on the road is an idiot.” Take responsibility. Stay alert. Don’t be one of the idiots.
7. “Take your time going and hurry back.” Nothing matters more than spending time with the people you love. Prioritize family-time, don’t just pay it lip service.
8. “Life’s too short.” To worry. Or hold a grudge. To criticize or let the sun go down on an argument. To live in fear or be a slave to the opinions of others. To waste time or squander opportunities. To not say “I love you” or dance in the living room or speak a kind word. For cynicism, doubt and smallness of spirit. To eat red licorice when there’s black to be had. To not laugh every day and pray every day and take a nap when you need one
1. The apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree. Dad—I want to be like you when I grow up.I hope I never roll far from the roots that nourished me or the lovely shade of your generosity, your faith, your wisdom, your integrity, your intelligence and good humor. You never lectured me, you simply lived the lessons I needed. Thank you for being a truly exquisite human being. And my Dad. I miss you. Thank heaven for eternity, because I’ll never be done learning from you. Happy Father’s Day. I love you.
What lessons, spoken or unspoken, have you learned from the father-figures in your life?