Dad's Wisdom

As I was growing up in the 50's and 60's, my father would give me "wisdoms."  Some were funny.   "Make sure your best friends are heavier than you so you always look good."  "Even if the latest style is mini skirts, if you have fat legs you should cover them up."  And some were quite profound.  (Check out my previous blog "Winter Wisdom" posted January 9, 2012.)

I thought, "Wouldn't it be great to compile a book of dad's wisdom's for my brother, sisters, myself and our children?"  I didn't have enough on my own, so I thought I'd ask my siblings.  First I called my sister Candy and told her my idea.  She said dad never imparted wisdom to her.  I gave her a couple of examples.  No, he never talked to her like that.  Then I called Sharon.  We had pretty much the same conversation.  I didn't even call Bill; I was pretty sure I'd get the same response.  So much for the book idea.

I thought the whole thing was quite interesting.  Why would he impart such wonderful wisdom to me and not the others?

Maybe it was family placement.  My sister Sharon once told me that we're all born into a different family.   That didn't make sense to me.  She then explained: She was born to mom and dad; Candy was born to mom, dad and Sharon; Bill was born to mom, dad, Sharon and Candy; and I was born to mom, dad, Sharon, Candy and Bill.  I never thought of it that way.  So maybe dad was so busy helping raise four kids that he didn't have time to impart wisdom.  Or maybe he just had more years of reading and life experience by the time I came around so he had more wisdom to impart and I was the lucky recipient.  Or maybe it was because I took the time to really listen to dad.

Dad loved to fish.  All of us were welcome to go with him, but sometimes you had to be up and ready to go at 5 AM.  Most often I was the only one willing to do that.  It was hard getting out of bed that early on a Saturday or Sunday morning, but it was SO worth it.  Dad would make breakfast for the two of us and off we'd go.  I could care less about the fishing, but I savored my alone time with dad.  He had a way of making me feel special and important.  He would talk with me, not at me.  We would discuss topics like politics, history, and current events.  Even though I was little, he listened to me and made me feel like my thoughts were as important as his or anyone's.  I would hang on his every word.  I couldn't believe that my brother or sisters didn't want to share this special time with dad, but I was grateful that they didn't.  I guess that's when he would share his wisdom.  I know he would have shared with them too if he had the opportunity, but I'd prefer to think that I was special.  It was his gift to me... only me.  And I've used much of his wisdom throughout my life.  They've become part of me; part of who I am and what I believe.  So thanks for my special gifts, dad.

Love, Paula