Need To Slow Down?

The speed of life is fast.  Incredibly fast.  Maybe too fast.

And one of the reasons I like spending time with my elderly father is because he reminds me to slow down.

What does slowing down look like?  I’m really not sure.  I think it might involve taking a micro-sabbatical.  I also think it might involve drinking more tea with my new hand-made teapot, compliments of hubby. (I didn’t ask for the teapot, so I think it’s his way of telling me I’m drinking too much coffee.)

There’s one thing I do know.  When I’m in a hurry, I tend to step on other people.  I tend to think my time is more important than their time.  I tend to be rude and even a bit self-absorbed.

Shocking, I know.

I was keenly reminded of my need to slow down when I was helping my father set up his new computer.  He was adding a favorite financial website to his desktop, but we couldn’t seem to get his password to work.  He had already called customer service and had been given a “temporary password” but we were still locked out of his account.  And he was frustrated.

So I told him, “Just call customer service back.  I’m sure they can straighten it out.”

He dialed customer service.  He got re-routed.  He tried to explain.  And he got frustrated again.  I could hear a woman named “Lori” on the other end of the phone. 

“Sir, I already gave you the temporary password.  You must be typing it in wrong.”

I could tell Lori was in a hurry, and she was getting annoyed with his repeated calls. 

This old guy doesn’t understand.  He doesn’t know what he’s doing.  I already gave him the temporary password, and he probably can’t type.

Enter Lawyer Daughter.

My blood was starting to boil.  Instinctively, I ripped the phone out of his hands. I tried to explain that the temporary password wasn’t working, but Lori didn’t want to hear it.  She became even more annoyed with me.  (And, no, she wasn’t about to give me her last name.)

After several rounds of trouble shooting and two more calls to Lori, we finally convinced her to slow down and listen.  It wasn’t the password that was the problem, and together we figured out that the account just needed an adjustment.

Lori wasn’t so bad after all.  And I can’t blame her for being in a hurry.  (Heck, she probably gets paid on how many calls she takes a day.)

Some days, I feel a lot like Lori.  Some days, I need to slow down and listen.

My Dad Turns 80 Today!

My dad turns 80 today.  So I decided to interview him right here on the blog.  Please leave him a comment and wish him a great day!

How does it feel to be 80?

(Long pause.)  When you say 80, that doesn’t mean much to me.  I think back on my life, and I’ve had a good life.  Many blessings.  A great family.  A wonderful family.  Years don’t mean anything to me.  I have had health struggles, but I don’t blame it on age.  I’m very happy with life. 

What are some of the biggest changes you’ve seen in your lifetime?

The speed of life today is frightening.  Everyone is in a big hurry.  Technology is great, but we have too much communication with the internet and TV.  Like when we watched the miners being rescued in Chile. Years ago, we would read about it a week later.
I am bothered by how people treat each other.  There is a loss of respect.  People have forgotten how to get along and live with other people.
There have also been a lot of good changes.  Living today is very comfortable compared to years ago. 

What was is like growing up in the Depression?

I always had something to eat.  I know that my mother and dad struggled a lot.  My mother struggled with health problems.  My dad had a hard time finding work.  I remember him going out and trying to do any kind of work – fixing a car or planting a tree.  Around the mid-30’s, my father found a job in the steel mill and things got better.  WWII created work – factories needed to supply tanks, planes, and ammunition to our Allies.  Things got pretty good then.

What’s the greatest lesson you learned from your parents?

My parents taught me that family was very important.  My parents and my grandparents were always pro-family.  I’ve tried to duplicate their way of living. 
My parents were always honest in their feelings and they loved each other.

Your parents were married almost 60 years and you’ve been married 54 years.  What’s the secret to a great marriage?

A great woman.

What are some of your most vivid memories?

Dating your mother.  After retiring, going places with my wife and traveling.  Doing things and going places we always dreamed about. 

If you could do it all over again, would you do anything differently?

I would make sure I had a college degree.  I wouldn’t have spent so much money on automobiles. 

You’re Navy veteran.  What does being a veteran mean to you? 

Being very proud that I spent time in the Navy.  Doing duty for my country.  I made 32 round trips across the Pacific.  We were taking troops to Korea and rotating troops to different islands during the Korean War.  The Navy gave me schooling opportunities – I chose weather forecasting school in Lakehurst, NJ.  Even today I can read weather maps and tell you what the weather is going to be like. 

What’s your greatest accomplishment?

We have five wonderful daughters who are all happily married.  My daughters are all different, but they are all special in their own ways.  We have 14 grandchildren.  They are all special in their own ways.  I’m very happy.  I think that God has blessed me richly with my wonderful wife and family. 

Is there anything you still wish you could do?

I wish I had the strength to play golf.  To walk on the beach.  To work in the yard.  To just to have the ability to get around.

What’s the best advice you can give to younger generations?

Be honest with yourself as well as others.  Know both your capabilities and your limits.  Make sure you diversity – don’t put everything in one basket.  Don’t forget God in your life.

How did your faith become stronger over the years?

I have to give a lot of credit to my wife.  She never gave up. 

Is there anything you would like to say to the blogging world?

Be very careful.  There’s people out there who are looking for others to make a mistake.  There are people out there who looking to criticize and misuse what you say. 

**********

Happy Birthday Dad, and thanks for a great interview!  (For more posts about my dad, see How An Old-Fashioned Father Father Raised Five Loyal Daughters and Thanks For Fighting Dad. )

How An Old-Fashioned Father Raised Five Loyal Daughters

My old-fashioned, strict father raised five loyal daughters!  How did he do it?  Here are 10 reasons:

1.  Fear motivates.  My dad put the fear of God in us!  Forget popular psychology and studies that claim children need to be handled with kid gloves.  My sisters and I were terrified of getting in trouble – which means we tended to behave. 

2.  Fear plus love really motivates.  Fear alone doesn’t work.  But fear plus love (especially unconditional love) produces well-adjusted kids.  Besides, my father had my mother -- the queen of unconditional love -- to help him! 

3.  Process over results.  We just had to do our best.  My dad never cared about the results, just the effort!

4.  We all need boundaries.  Sometimes, boundaries are actually a good thing for kids.  I can remember a few times when I probably would have pushed the envelope, but for the fact that I had to make my curfew!

5.  Freedom earned is freedom appreciated.  Sometimes, we don’t appreciate our freedom unless it’s earned.  And earned freedom also teaches responsibility.

6.  Those long-haired boyfriends were really jerks.  When you’re young and foolish, you can’t always see what’s best.  (I never had long-haired, hippy boyfriends, but my sisters?  That’s another story.)

7.  He always respected our hormones.  My dad always gave us our “girl” space.  He never pried into “female” issues and he always steered clear of the girls’ bathroom in our home –even if it meant he had to wait.

8.  He’s a closet feminist.  My dad always taught us we could do and be anything we wanted.  In other words, “anything boys can do girls can do better.” 

9.  Fathers soften with age.  Daughters get more stubborn.  There, I said it. My dad has melted with age.  His daughters?  Not so much.

10.  He always had our best interests at heart.  No matter what, we always knew that our father cared about us more than anything in the world. 

Thank God for all the old-fashioned fathers out there.  Sure, we might have questioned you growing up, but now that we’re older and wiser, we wouldn’t trade you for the world.  Happy Father’s Day!

Thanks For Fighting, Dad

My father turns 80 later this year.  Like lots of dads, he’s fighting an illness.  And his family is cheering him on every step of the way. 

Given his physical struggles and loss of strength, is he giving up?  Hardly.  Giving up isn’t his nature.
In order to appreciate how far he’s come, you first have to understand where he’s been.  At the beginning of 2010, I wrote about Lessons From My Father’s Illness.  At that time, he was completely sedentary.  Unable to drive.  Unable to walk.  Unable to be alone.

That was six months ago.  He’s still struggling, but he’s also gained strength.  He got rid of his wheelchair.  He’s in intense physical therapy three times a week.  He’s driving again.  And he looks forward to the day he will get back on the golf course.

Yes, he’s still frustrated that his body won’t move as fast as his brain.  But he has hope.  And he’s gaining back some independence. 

Just this week, I've heard from many fathers who are battling illness – brave fathers who are standing strong for their families.  One father I know just suffered an unexpected heart attack and subsequent surgery.  Another father is battling cancer.  Yet another father is awaiting test results and praying for the best.

Of course, none of us want to see our fathers suffer.  As children, we’re used to our fathers taking care of us.  But even through their illnesses, our fathers keep teaching us about life.  Don’t give up.  Stay positive.  Tomorrow will be better.  We can’t change what’s done.  Keep your chin up. 


This Father’s Day, many of us need to thank our fathers for fighting the good fight.  What lessons have you learned from a loved one’s pain and illness?  Who can you thank for fighting this Father’s Day?

Jesus The Fatherless?

When Jesus was ready to launch his public ministry, his earthly father, Joseph, was likely dead.  For how long?  We really don’t know. 

The last time Joseph is mentioned in the New Testament is in Luke 2, when Jesus was about 12 years old.  So, sometime between age 12 and age 30, Jesus lost his earthly father.

Jesus already had to overcome the prejudice against him in his hometown.  Some of the folks in Nazareth likely questioned the propriety of his “virgin” birth.  Maybe they even considered him illegitimate.  After all, Mary and Joseph weren’t married yet when Mary conceived.  Was Joseph really Jesus’ father?

After he launches his ministry, Jesus returns to his hometown to teach in the synagogue.  But he isn’t exactly welcomed with open arms.  Instead, the leaders proclaim, “Isn’t this the carpenter?  Isn’t this Mary’s son…”  (Mark 6:3)

In a male-dominated society, the fact that they referred to him as Mary’s son speaks volumes.  Jesus was on his own, without a “man” of the family to support or defend him. 

In human terms, Jesus knew what it was like to be fatherless.  He feels our pain when our earthly fathers let us down.  And no matter how wonderful our earthly fathers may be, they can never be perfect.  They can never take the place of our Heavenly Father.

Jesus shows us, in spiritual terms, what it means to be in perfect relationship with our Heavenly Father.  And what a better time than Father’s Day to restore or renew that relationship.

What does it mean to you to know that your Heavenly Father is fully able to meet your needs, regardless of the imperfections of your earthly father? 

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.  Psalm 68:5

Daddy’s Girl

When my 4-year-old Abby wakes up in the morning, I greet her and say, “Good morning sweetheart.”
Her response?  “Where’s Daddy?”  Every time.

Abby is what you call a Daddy’s Girl.  In her world, Daddy rocks.  He can do anything.

Mom?  Not so much.

Never mind that I dress her, feed her, read her books, and put her to bed.  Daddy is fun.  Daddy lets her eat junk.  Daddy lets her sit in a booster seat instead of a car seat.  Daddy lets her watch TV.

Daddy this.  Daddy that.  It’s really quite exhausting.

Last week I was taking Abby to preschool.  (Daddy usually takes her.)  During our 10-minute drive, she constantly moaned, “I want Daddy.”  Then she started criticizing my driving.  “Daddy usually goes that way, not this way.” 

Just what I need.  Another back seat driver.


When I walked her into school, her teachers exclaimed, “Her daddy usually spins her upside down five times before he says goodbye.  He’s kinda started a tradition.”

I didn’t want to disappoint them all, but I wasn’t about to spin her upside down.  I’d probably twist my ankle in my high heels and drop her on her head.  No thanks, I’m not Daddy.

I have other qualities she’ll eventually appreciate.  Wait until her hormones kick in.  Wait until she wants to go shopping.  Wait until her first boyfriend appears on the scene and her beloved Daddy chases him away. 
(Besides, my 6-year-old Anna already thinks I’m the bomb, so my ego isn’t completely bruised.)

For now, I’m happy to let Abby be Daddy’s Girl.  After all, how many little girls get a chance to have their daddies as their heroes?

Father’s Day Is Around The Corner!

Now that Father’s Day is around the corner, I plan to write more about fathers.  That’s right the guys are taking over!   (Ok, not really.  Maybe for a week or so.)

My 4-year-old, Abby, is in full swing.  Just the other day, Abby was singing at the top of her lungs “I love my husband!” 

Her 3-year-old friend, Margaret, turned to her and said, “You don’t have a husband.”

Abby replied, “Oh yes I do.  My dad is our husband.”

I told Doug later that evening, and he replied, “At least I’m somebody’s hero.”

I almost corrected Abby and told her, “He’s my husband, not yours!”  But I didn’t have the heart.  These days, many children don’t have a father at home.  According to Families and Living Arrangements, there were 12.9 million single parent families in 2006- 10.4 million single mother families and 2.5 single father families.  I guess I wasn’t surprised about the single mothers.  But I frankly didn’t realize there were so many single fathers.  If the US Census Bureau is right, single fathers represent one out of six single-parent homes.

I can’t imagine the pressures of raising a child alone.  I realize that Father’s Day isn’t a day of celebration for everyone.  For some, it can be a painful reminder.  For others, a memory of a loss.  Or maybe it’s just another day.

For me, Father’s Day is a day of honor and celebration.   (I’ll be sharing some lessons from my own father later this week.)

Today, I’m just thankful that Abby has both a mother and a “husband” who love her very much. 

What does Father’s Day mean to you?

Lessons Learned From My Father’s Illness (Part 2)

Change is the one thing about life that’s certain.  You can either resist change, or you can learn and grow through it.  My parents have modeled the latter.  Here are a few more things I’ve learned from them in 2009:

Lesson #6:  “In sickness and in health.”
My parents are a team.  When they said “I do” over 50 years ago, they meant it.   Sure, like all marriages they’ve had their ups and downs.  But they won’t part until death, and they take that commitment very seriously.  The result?  They’re closer than ever.  Right now, my mother is my father’s nurse as well as his hands and feet.  She doesn’t complain, and she knows that if the tables were turned he would do the same for her.  She’s just thankful that God gave her the strength and stamina to do it.  (And she can run circles around just about anyone, including her grandchildren.)

Lesson #7:  Memories rock.
Our family memories are sacred.  Holidays.  Births.  Weddings.  Family gatherings.  Cookouts.  Family vacations.  More family vacations.  You guessed it, our most memorable times together are probably on family vacations.  So we love to talk about the trips together, tell stories, and pull out the old pictures and video tapes.  No one can take away the memories, and we wouldn’t trade them for anything. 

Lesson #8:  People are more important than things.
My parents are talking about selling the house they love – the house where they’ve raised 5 daughters, welcomed 14 grandchildren (and one great-grandchild) into the world, planted over 40 gardens, added porches, remodeled the kitchen, and hosted 4 generations of family.  It’s going to be hard, but at the end of the day, the four walls of a house mean nothing.  Stuff is overrated.   But for the people, the stuff is meaningless.

Lesson #9:  It’s ok to cry.
My dad is from a generation of men that don’t cry.  So he keeps apologizing for getting all emotional and mushy this past year.  I just want to tell him, “it’s ok to cry, Dad.”  His tears help comfort me.  They help me connect with him.  And they help teach me that no matter how tough you are, it’s ok to be human.  “Weeping may endure for a night but joy comes in the morning.”  (Psalm 30:5.)

Lesson #10:  Faith is the cornerstone.
No matter what the circumstances, our faith is constant.  My mother has modeled the kind of faith I can only hope to one day emulate (and yes, she’s even begun to rub off on my father).  So while we wait for more answers, pray for a breakthrough, and hope for the best, we know that our eternal destiny – the only thing that lasts forever– is secure in Christ.  (We know there are lots of golf courses in heaven, but don’t be surprised when you see my dad hit the links this summer.  God isn’t finished with him yet!)

Thanks Mom and Dad for teaching me some valuable lessons in 2009!  

Who do you need to thank for teaching you a few things in 2009?  You might want to let them know before the year ends!

Lessons Learned From My Father’s Illness (Part 1)

I’ve learned a few lessons this year from my father’s illness.  Unfortunately, I can’t fit them all into one blog, so I’ll have to finish up tomorrow.

Lesson #1:  Always get a second opinion.
My parents are from a generation that doesn’t question doctors.  But when you’re life is on the line, you really need to get a second opinion.  As they say, the squeaky wheel gets the grease, and when it comes to your health, it pays to be the squeaky wheel.  (It also doesn’t hurt to educate yourself.  Sure, you can’t believe everything you read online, but Web MD is pretty handy to have around.)

Lesson #2:  Trust your own body, as well as your instincts.
Yes, doctors and medical professionals provide vital expertise.  But there are times when you just need to listen to your own body.  Is the medicine you are taking making you sick?  Are your instincts telling you that you need to try a different treatment?  Then listen, and act on your instincts.

Lesson #3:  Never give up.
When I visited my father over Christmas, he told me point blank, “I just want you to know that I’m not giving up.”  He continues to ride an old stationary bike, even when it hurts.  He’s started playing the piano again.  And he dreams of golfing this summer.  He’s always told me that it’s mind over matter.  Now he gets to live out his own words.  

Lesson #4:  Keep your sense of humor.
Illness can make everyone cranky.  And if you know my father, he can give Grumpy Old Men a new meaning.  But he continues to laugh.  He teases the grandkids and calls them by his pet nicknames.  We laugh about his newfound admiration for my mother’s driving (she’s the only wheels he has)!  And we laugh through our tears about how he needs her help in the bathroom – like when I was a little girl and yelled for her when I was finished going “potty.”  I’m just thankful he keeps laughing. 

Lesson # 5:  The glass is always half full.
My father’s feisty spirit has become more enduring than ever, and my parents have gained my admiration as I’ve watched them enter a new stage of life with grace and dignity. Tomorrow will be better.  There is always hope.  God is in control of our ultimate destiny.   Hope is a beautiful thing.