Toe Holds & Foot Prints

It wasn't until my father's memorial service, about 40 years ago, that I got my first inkling of the indelible image he'd made on the community into which he married & lived & raised a family.  Then & over the years since, I'ved heard story after story from people who held him in high regard just because they'd experienced in him a good-hearted man.

Been thinking a lot about Dad as we move closer & closer to March 25, the date he died.  

Although he hadn't shared it with the rest of us, Dad had been experiencing terrible headaches for a couple months.  Mom had realized that he seemed to using a lot of aspirin, but hadn't made any connections between the pain relievers & his health.  

The closest he came to sharing his deteriorating health with any of us was with me, on New Year's Eve; he'd picked me up from a party at Glenn & Joel's and on the drive home shared how much he was looking forward to the trip he & Mom were taking out to California to visit with her sisters - he was really tired, he confided, and was looking forward to having some time away from work, an opportunity to relax & unwind.  

For Dad to be looking forward to not being at Lockhart Lumber was unusual.  He enjoyed a vacation as much as the next fellow, but he truly loved working at his teeny tiny lumber & millwork "shop" - loved his use, loved being of use to others.  

Mom was much the same with her "job" as wife & mother.  She loved every aspect of her work, even cleaning out the fridge.  And she thrived in her role of wife, which she translated as being a partner through good times & the difficult.  

Both of them - individually, as a couple, as parents, as a family - embodied what their faith taught about expressing in word, thought & deed a life of use.  Mom & Dad never knew the word "stint" when it came to giving their precious time, their boundless energy, or their limited money.   If they saw a need, they did everything in their power to fill it.  

Naturally, I thought that every kid in town was brought up with that sort of outlook.  My brothers were hauled into helping Dad with parking duty, getting up early early on Sunday mornings to help direct cars into the most optimum parking spots.  (Imagine the demand for space back when Glencairn was a private home, when there were no parking spaces aross the street, back when the college parking lot was a vast wheat field!)  Mim had her own kids’ club.  I was encouraged to do what I could to make dorm students feel less lonesome – can’t remember a time Mom was reminding me that “their lives might seem glamorous to you, but they don’t get to have a homecooked meal every day or sleep in their own bed.” 

None of us gave much thought to cost – Mim financed her Explorer’s Club (featuring weekly meetings, activities, even a 3-night summer camp in our back yard!) with piddly dues & money she earned from babysitting;  Dad paid for the ingredients for all the batches of goodies that made their way to the dorms.  Both my parents encouraged us kids to invite dorm students down for Sunday dinner.

Mom & Dad weren’t sought after social types.  They were the other's best friend.  So, it was a stunning surprise at Dad’s memorial service when the family rose to sing the first hymn and were hit with a wave of beautiful singing, our first indication that the nave was filled, from our front row to the very back.  Mind you, Dad's service was on a weekday afternoon, so a lot of the people - from corporate presidents to his car mechanic - had to take time off to attend.   

And there it was, my first inkling that although my parents had a very small toe hold in our community, they left a very big foot print.  Their legacy was & continues to be the example they set of what mattered most to them – forging relationship to God, to your partner, your family, your friends, your community, your nation.  Very big shoes to step into!