FATHER

“What are the three happiest memories of your early childhood? And, think of three with your mother and three with your father.” This was one of those strange questions I was asked as part of my psychiatric evaluations, which are part of the process for ordination to the priesthood.

I had many more than three happy childhood memories with my mother, because in my early childhood my father wasn’t around. He, along with hundreds of thousands of other fathers, was thousands of miles away. In the 1940’s my early childhood happy memories were of surrogate fathers, Uncle Jay, Grandpa Theodore, Uncle Floyd and Uncle Lloyd. They taught me how to swim, put tadpoles in a jar and feed the chickens. Those are all happy memories. I don’t remember my father’s return from the war, but looking back on the ensuing fifty years I have only very happy memories of my father and our special relationship. He must have said to me a hundred times, “Joe, you can do anything you want to do.” That’s special!

My father had all the qualities of his comrades of the “Greatest Generation.” He was a completely committed follower of Jesus Christ and he was an American patriot.

When he died I was the executor of his estate. As I was going through his well-organized files I came across several boxes of check stubs. As I went through those entries I found that he gave a few dollars to just about every charity that sent him a request. I also found records that he had tithed as far back as the records went. My mother told me that he had tithed ever since they were married – 52 years!

This was a man whose family went from land owners to share croppers after the Civil War. This was a man whose family lost what little they had left in the American economic crash of 1929. This was a man who, as the eldest son, joined the Army in 1931 so he could send money home for his mother and father and seven brothers and sisters. As a private he made $21 a month. He sent $15 to his family in Oconee County. He kept $5 for himself. Because of him they survived - that sort of redefines tithing! Sunday is Father’s Day. Along with Cissy and the pups I will be at Fripp Island.

A few moments before sunrise we will be on the beach. As the first rays of the sun birth on the horizon, this will be my opening prayer, “My father, who is in heaven, Holy is your name.”

I Love You Daddy!