My dad, Lou, is 95 and suffers from dementia. It’s heartbreaking to watch this man who was always larger than life (hence the nickname Big Lou) slowly fade away. Yet, there are hints of his former self that still shine through. He hasn’t lost his sense of humor or the infamous twinkle in his eyes. He enjoyed many accomplishments in his life but can’t recall any of them. If he were capable, I know he would say his greatest achievement by far was the loving relationships he created and maintained all his life, not the least of which was his life-long relationship with God.
We all carry the influence of our dads. Whether you had a great dad, a not-so-great dad, or even no dad, his presence or lack thereof has a life-long impact whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. It’s funny. The things that sometimes have the most impact are ones they may not have thought important at all. For instance, my love of the theatre began with my dad taking us to occasional Saturday morning plays as a way to give my mom a break. His tradition of taking the brood of us to a Broadway show every Christmas season lasted well into my adulthood. Unfortunately, there always seemed to be a big playoff game on the same day. As an avid sports fan he was not to be denied, so he would sit in the theater listening to the game through headphones. One of the last shows we saw was Fifth of July (a heavy drama about a gay, paraplegic, Vietnam vet). Christopher Reeve was delivering his poignant soliloquy when the Giants scored the winning touchdown. My father leaped up and cheered. I’m not sure whether it was that incident or our growing numbers that eventually put an end to the tradition. Regardless, we had a good run.
There are many things I admire about my dad, but his devotion to family, playfulness, ability to laugh at himself, and his penchant for remembering only good times have got to be at the top of my list. Without a doubt, though I didn’t appreciate it growing up, the most important example my dad set for me was the way he lived out his faith. Did he get it perfect? Far from it, but his walk with Christ has never faltered. I suppose he taught me that Christianity is not about perfection but perseverance. At his 80th birthday party he finished his speech with the following sentiment, “This is how I would like to be remembered - a very imperfect human being who has been blessed with the reality that he is loved by a God who has never left him alone, and someday we will meet face to face.” Well said!
A friend of mine, after meeting my dad years ago, sent me a note saying, “When I look into your father’s eyes, I see Jesus.” Wow, in the middle of Swanky Franks? Who would’ve guessed? It made me wonder what people see when they look in my eyes. Did I inherit my father’s eyes? As a Christian, the answer to that question is a resounding “YES!” Seeing the world from God’s perspective is part of our inheritance as is His legacy of love – if we choose to claim it. In turn, our lives are meant to be lived in such a way that reveals that love to others. I believe that’s what my friend saw in my dad’s eyes, and like the Christian singer Amy Grant, I pray that someday others will say the same about me.
When people look inside my life,
I want to hear them say
She's got her father's eyes
Her father's eyes
Eyes that find the good in things
When good is not around
Eyes that find the source of help,
when help just can't be found
Just like my father's eyes
As I mentioned, my father’s example of a faith-directed life laid the foundation, but I had to build my own relationship with my heavenly Father. Getting to know someone is always the first step in developing a deep, lasting relationship, which is why I choose to study the Bible. It’s God’s love letter to us, and it speaks to each of us in different ways at different times. Any knowledge I attained would all be for naught though if I didn’t choose to spend time with Him every day. It’s no different than developing and maintaining relationships with our earthly fathers.
We aren’t all fortunate to be blessed with fathers who share their faith, or even gentle, tender-hearted fathers who shower us with love. Nevertheless, we all have access to a heavenly Father who wants to do just that. It’s our choice to determine the depth and breadth of that relationship. Years ago, my dad confided that his biggest fear about dementia was that he’d forget God. While he was still able to understand, I would comfort him, “Maybe you will, Dad, but He will never forget you!"
No, he’s not the same man he was even five years ago. However, his eyes still light up when I enter the room. There’s still a remnant of the man who always greeted me with open arms and an enthusiastic, “Hello beautiful!” Who cares if he thinks I’m just a nice girl who takes him for rides in the car. He’s still happy to see me. His infirmity doesn’t lessen the love we share – just the way we communicate it. Blessedly, love transcends language. Some of the best times I’ve spent with my earthly dad and my heavenly One have been in companionable silence.
The decree to honor thy father is at the forefront of many people’s minds today. But how does one do that? Not with a new golf club on Father’s Day, though it certainly doesn’t hurt. The best way I know of is to live out the values they taught us. To live in a way that reflects the best of themselves back to them.
While celebrating the men in my life today, I start by thanking God for blessing me with them. My father won’t understand but it needs to be said anyway. Thank you, Dad, for always being there when I needed you - and especially when I didn't think I did. I initially wrote that last line for Big Lou. However, I realized it also sounds like an excellent prayer for today, so I will end it accordingly with a heartfelt "Amen!"