Right now I'm listening to my husband speak to someone on Focus on the Family about what kids remember about dads. The emotional touch points. Not big things. The everyday little things a dad does to make life special.
My dad took me on a "date" on my 18th birthday. My mom had to convince me to want to go, because by then it was too little too late.
Today I got a sympathy card from someone I knew well when I was in high school and college. This makes the point that my dad was one person to the outside world and another to us as a family. His words are quite complimentary. But they describe the man he knew, not the father I knew.
Following are his words:
Very sorry to learn yesterday the news of Dale's death. He was a gentle spirit who truly cared about people and their relationships.
While technically he wasn't the first person I met upon arriving at R-G in 11/71 (that distinction belonged to the person staffing the front gate), Dale was my first friend–even though he outranked me by several levels. We met at the sparsely populated O Club one weekday morning as he would come there to visit with personnel over breakfast.
He introduced himself, we talked while eating, and discovered we were kindred souls theologically. Later we would play racquetball together and attend AF-sponsored religious retreats at St. Olaf College in MN–all the while crossing paths at the base chapel on Sundays and holidays. That first Thanksgiving, Dale and Joyce had several of us who were single (both enlisted and officers) to their base house for a meal.
While Dale may have been a bit shy by nature, it didn't prevent him from reaching out in order to connect with others. He was approachable and his concern for the other person genuine.
We've lost a good one ...
And then he signed it. I have mixed emotions about these tributes. I appreciate that they liked my father. But it is disturbing to know that this description is not the man I knew. God knows who Dad really was. I need God's mercy and grace and understanding.
