It was easy to see the end was near for the old man. He was quite ill and not seeming to show any improvements. The family got together for what might be Grandpa’s last get together with us. I was a senior in high school and had already lost Grandma (his wife) and my grandfather on Mom’s side.
Grandpa was opening the get well cards, and due to the circumstances, most of them were from the “sentimental” section of Hallmark’s selection. He was getting rather emotional at the sentiment offered by the cards. Some family members shed tears and shared hugs with Grandpa in the card-opening process. Then he came to my card. He opened the envelope, and the front panel stated, “Relax, things could be worse.” He depressingly commented, “I don’t see how.”
He opened to the inside of the card, and it read, “You could be pregnant!”
He burst into the most prolonged and loudest laughter I ever remember Grandpa experiencing. He enjoyed the kind of laughter that brings tears to the eyes and sore stomachs. The writer of the Proverbs tells us laughter is good like a medicine and in this case, it was accurate. While Grandpa did not survive in this world much longer, the hilarity of that moment has been a healing factor for me all my life.
It was during this party that Grandpa looked at my dad (his son) and commented that he was born in 1931. Dad quickly pointed out that it was 1933, which gave me ammunition for a point of teasing that was very helpful. My father, quick to dish out the teasing was quite adept at taking it as well. In fact, in our family, if you didn’t learn how to take the teasing, life would be miserable because everyone would lay it on even thicker.
After years of birthday abuse and in hopes of ceasing the teasing, he offered his birth certificate. While the date of birth was 1933, a fold or crease in the document made a mark over the last three in the year. This mark made the date on the form look like 1931 with a “3” written over the last “1.” I became relentless at that point and accused him of tampering with his birth certificate. Each birthday from that point on I always pointed out that “certainly, his father would know when he was born.” I accused him of falsifying the birth certificate with a well-placed “3” over the “1.”
When Dad turned sixty-eight, I sent him a “Happy 70th” Birthday card. Unfortunately, I never was able to send the actual 70th (or 72nd in the teasing) birthday card. On August 30 of his 69th year (or 71st in the teasing) he went to see his dad, his Heavenly Father, and Jesus in Heaven. I can only assume God needed someone to teach St. Peter how to fish or to zap him with some witty replies.
I share this story because today would have been Dad’s 85th (or 87th in the teasing) birthday. Jesus once said, “Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg will give him a scorpion?” (Luke 11:11-12) I have heard both psychologist and theologians testify that a healthy relationship with our fathers makes it easier to understand the unconditional love of our Heavenly Father. Jesus even instructed us to call God by the name Father. Dad made the understanding of a relationship with my Heavenly Father much easier for me.
With that in mind, Dad, thanks for the fish and the eggs instead of snakes and scorpions, for driveway basketball, and backyard games of catch. I appreciate the early morning fishing expeditions, patient driving lessons, and burnt pancakes on church campouts. I loved your “Barney Fife” deliberate educational style of teaching, for showing me what it is to be a man, and for demonstrating how to love your wife. I will never forget the laughter, the forgiven loans, and the discipline of spankings, groundings, and the “ultimate in pain” lectures. You helped me grow into a man, taught me quick-witted responses, showed me what a Heavenly Father looks like, and helped me be a better dad. I admire you for your excellence in being an incredible grandpa for my sons, for being the “fun” uncle for my cousins, and for the love and respect you had for my mother, your sons, and our families.