Father's Day is a special time of remembering our fathers, and giving special recognition if they are still living. Their influence can not be measured; and it helps us to realize the responsibility and privilege we hold as parents and grandparents. In ways our dads blessed us we give our heavenly Father thanksgiving. We release our fathers from their failings and receive peace and healing.
My Dad, Franklin F. Ford touched my life in so many ways. I remember sitting in his lap when a very young girl and feeling his whiskers rub against my cheek. Dad taught me, my siblings, and some grandchildren how to tie our shoes, using the two loops, "bunny ears" method. He taught me how to ride a bike and along with Mom tried to teach me to swim. I guess I could swim well enough to stay afloat in an emergency, but prefer to be able to touch bottom! He also tried to teach me to drive a car; but that needed the extra patience of my husband several years later.
Dad gave me the example of hard work rewards. He often worked two jobs, yet kept up our house repairs, did yard work, plus helped Mom with chores. No job was ever beneath him. He gave me great appreciation for wood items; because he worked as a craftsman for Stickley Furniture Company.
I often think of my Dad when I view rolling hills, trees, streams, or animals, big or small. Dad thrived when he could be outdoors, gardening, cutting grass, taking long walks, or in later years enjoying his wooden swing. Even in dangerously high temperatures he would be outside every chance he got.
Dad lived a troubled life; but in his happy moments the sounds of his laughter filled our house and our memories. He laughed in pure simple pleasure and it was contagious!
I guess Dad's biggest life lesson was love and concern for his family. We never got too old or lived too far away to be on Dad's mind. He waited for letters and phone calls to learn the latest news about our families and looked forward to visits.
Reading books as he worked long hours as a plant security guard for General Electric now holds special meaning. I can see all those paper back westerns tucked in his lunch box, and know he would be proud of my writing.
If Dad was still here I would be calling soon to wish him a Happy Fathers Day, instead I'll curl up in his lap in my memories and feel his whiskers against my cheek
Devotionals are her first love in writing. Published articles in Mature Living Magazine, Devotions for the Deaf, The Secret Place, Light from the Word, Coosa Journal, With God Daily, Mary Hollingsworth's The One Year Devotional of Joy and Laughter. http://www.pamforddavis.com
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