Father’s Day: A look at dad’s importance

“On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do.”

John Mayer’s song “Daughters” has much truth in it. Parents have a profound effect, for good or ill, on their children.
Parents help shape us into who we become as adults. Many in America, including many men, seem to think that fathers are unimportant and they take a back seat in influencing their children.
Much of what dads do echoes what mothers do too, but studies have shown that fathers are important. According to the Fatherhood Institute, positive effects include fewer behavioral problems, lower chance of criminal activity and substance abuse, better self-esteem, better grades and higher job ambition and better relationships with peers.
Children can learn so much from watching their dads: self-discipline, work ethic, the many ways to show love, proper attitudes toward women and how to view God. A 1994 Swiss study revealed that the single biggest factor of a child’s church attendance is the father.
I was blessed to grow up with both parents, and I realize more each day just how much my dad has influenced me.
I now have a list of qualities I want the man I marry to have. I got them from my father. He isn’t perfect, but he set the bar pretty high.
My father is a man of God. He and my mother taught me a love of God, the Bible and church. Because my father is also a minister, he has set a powerful example as a Christian who loves people. I have seen him stand behind the pulpit many times with tears in his eyes as he preached about the depth of God’s love and forgiveness. He demonstrates a servant’s heart by reaching out to help those in need in any way he can, and he taught me no task is too small to be of use to God.
Dad is the hardest-working person I know. Weekends were taken up by church, and work days were taken up by a secular job, at which he often worked 12 or more hours a day, more than five days a week. In the evenings, he worked around the house or in the yard, and often neighbors had something that needed repair. He’s retired now, but you wouldn’t know it because he still does much of that same repair work at the church, around the house or for neighbors.
As a child, I admired but didn’t understand his drive. I gradually realized that acts of service were how my father showed his love. Sure, he told us he loved us, but his actions revealed the true depths of his love. His hard work demonstrated how much he loved his family and wanted us to be taken care of. It showed how much he loved my mother because his salary and overtime took care of her insurance and hospital bills. It showed how much he cared about his neighbors.
My father’s love for my mother is an especially big example to me. I always knew my parents loved each other, but I didn’t know just how deeply until the last few years of my mother’s life. In 1993, my mother was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and was in and out of remission for many years. In 2006, she received a bone marrow transplant, but she developed graft versus host disease and died in 2008. My sisters and I helped in every way we could, but there are no words to describe my father’s devotion. He truly embodied the fulfillment of the marriage vow “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as we both shall live.”
Family life can be tough, but dad has often surprised us with patience and humor. Over the years, he has put up with receiving strange gifts (Bill Cosby said, “Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope.”), teaching me driving and parallel parking (I’m sure it was hazardous to his health), tasting horrible cooking (I had to experiment on someone), etc. There was the time we got the van bogged down in the yard after he told us not to drive in that area. We just knew he was going to be mad when he got home from work. He laughed and had it out in 10 minutes. There were the fishing incidents, which would probably have discouraged any sane man from further expeditions with children but he persisted. In one famous episode, I used his hat for bait and he had to go fishing for it. In another, one of my sisters tried to use his ear. Poor man.
Mom was a good disciplinarian, but there is no threat like, “You wait until your father gets home, young lady.” Dad could be strict, but I remember times we got off easy. He fussed at me severely when I poured ice water down the back of Grandpa Frank’s pants (I remember my 4-year-old mind wondering what would happen if ... ), but the scold was totally ruined by the laughter in his eyes he was desperately trying to suppress. Of course, my grandfather hopping around the kitchen and trying not to say something he shouldn’t may have something to do with it.
Parents can often be a mystery to their children, but the more I learn of my father, the more I love and admire him. He has an uncomplicated friendliness I wish I could duplicate. My sisters and I like to say he’s never met a stranger. I envy his sense of adventure, perfectly demonstrated by his new baby, his Harley. He can seem crusty at times, but his soft heart is exposed when it comes to animals. He’s allergic to dogs, but I caught him sweet-talking my sister’s rat terrier recently.
My sisters and I are grown, but dad is still there for us, still working, still showing his love through many acts of service. He once drove all night to rescue one of my sisters when a job opportunity went terribly awry. He’s protective of his girls and we appreciate it. I know I can count on him for anything, a helping hand, a listening ear or a bit of advice. Isn’t it amazing how smart our parents become as we grow older? Dad really did know what he was talking about all those times.
I even take great comfort in his occasional bossiness. It tells me that no matter how old I get, he’s always going to be my daddy.

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