Sunday column: Lessons from Dad

The good old days, before those other kids ruined all my fun.

August 4, 2007

My dad is so proud of my brother, my two sisters and me that it really can be embarrassing. Through the years, he's done and said many, many things that have caused us to turn varying shades of red. For example, at age 21, when I was hired for my first newspaper job, Dad told everyone I was editor of the paper. Thanks Dad, but I had quite a bit of ladder-climbing to do before I could claim that title.
It's really not such a bad thing, though, to have a father who's proud of you. I thank my lucky stars today and every day that he's been here to embarrass us for our whole lives.
In between the moments in which we've hung our heads as he rambles on about some silly family news item, I know we've all learned a lot from Dad. Here are a few gems I know will serve me for the rest of my life.

Family comes first.
With four kids, all of whom have been heavily involved in various lessons and extracurricular activities, Dad never missed a game, a recital or a performance. We could always count on him to be there, video camera in hand (although the life of the battery inside the camera was always questionable).
Dad rarely worked late when we were young, and we always looked for him to walk through the front door right around 5 p.m. He was fortunate to have a career that allowed him to work such regular hours and that provided flexibility when he needed it.
One company he worked for transferred him from Louisiana to an office in South Carolina. He packed up our young family and we moved there, but we didn't stay long. With all of our extended family based in Louisiana, Dad wanted to move back home. And we did, because nothing is more important than family.

You can find anything at Sam's Club.
The running joke in our family is that no matter what city or state he's in at any given moment, Dad can — and will — find a Sam's Club and shop there. This is a man who wouldn't go to the mall if his life depended on it, but he always finds something to buy at Sam's.
Maybe back when there were six people living in his house, it made sense to buy an enormous jug of laundry detergent and the world's biggest box of Cheerios. But even now that Mom and Dad are officially empty-nesters, he can't seem to stop himself from buying in bulk.
It could be that Sam's Club minimalist interior design or the bank of giant flat-screen TVs that greet you when you walk in that appeal to Dad. All I know is, anytime I've needed anything — a computer, tires, washer and dryer, mattress, dog food, toilet paper, clothes — Dad's ready to head for Sam's.

Make yourself available to the people you love.
I think I'm finally beginning to accept the fact that I might be slightly accident-prone. I've written before about my on-the-road mishaps, and those types of inconveniences and problems are not limited to my vehicle. Through the years I've had trouble with plumbing, yard work, finances, career moves, the list goes on. There's always been one reliable solution to these situations — call Dad.
Dad always answers his cell phone, even though I'm sure by now he realizes it's probably some member of his family calling for help with something. After all these years of practice, he's honed his problem-solving skills to the point where 75 percent of the time, he can diagnose and fix whatever it is over the phone. No hands-on work required. The other 25 percent of the time, after a close inspection and provided the right tools, he's got things as good as new before you know it.
I've learned plenty of things the hard way with Dad's help, and thank goodness he's always been available to provide it.

Always give yourself options.
Dad likes to remind us, and himself, that we always have options. We're never locked into any specific situation without an escape route. Even though our options may not always be the most attractive or the most practical, they do exist. This is important to remember in life, when it's so easy to get swept into doing something that doesn't feel right or clearly isn't working for you.
Dad has taught us to speak up and ask questions. He challenges us to truly weigh all of our options, even those that we may be inclined to disregard.

There's nothing wrong with a "to me, from me" gift.
Several years ago, a wrapped present showed up under my parents' Christmas tree with a gift tag that read "to me, from me." When it was time to open gifts, we worked our way through everything under the tree until we came to that peculiar gift. The six of us looked at each other to see who would claim it. Finally, Dad reached for the box and started unwrapping. It was his "to me, from me" present.
In the years since, that same gift tag has been attached to all kinds of different things — Dad's gifts to himself.
Then, two years ago, I got bold and followed his lead. I bought myself some fantastic gold earrings and called them my "to me, from me" gift. Nothing wrong with that at all.