This is my dad.
Dad on the beach on Sanibel Island, FL |
When I was growing up, our Christmas tradition was to
celebrate Christmas EVE at my paternal grandparents’ house, Christmas MORNING
at our house, and Christmas AFTERNOON at my maternal grandparents’ house. We all lived in the same town, Omaha, so it
was possible to celebrate 3 Christmases over the course of a 24 hour period.
Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa Thompson's house circa the early 1970s |
One year my dad and I were out rushing about late in the
afternoon on December 24. I am not sure
what we were doing, I can’t recall, but if I had to guess I bet we were getting
a last minute gift from him to give to my mom.
J I remember going with him when I was little
to a store called Younkers at Center Mall and he would tell a sales clerk Mom’s
favorite color (pink) and size and she would pull together an entire outfit –
pants, sweater, jacket, scarf – and put it in a big box with pretty tissue
paper for Christmas. So I am guessing
that this December 24th outing with just the 2 of us was one of
those secret gift getting expeditions.
Dad at our house for Christmas, 1970 (see the little rocking chair in the background? I still have that!) |
What I DO remember about the outing was us in the car on
the way home and coming across someone with a flat tire. It had already turned dark, which meant that
we were actually due at Grandma and Grandpa Thompson’s house to eat dinner and
open gifts. Other cars were rushing by
the car stranded on the side of the road with the flat tire, but my dad PULLED
OVER. I remember thinking that we did not have TIME to help, but Dad said
that indeed we did, that in fact we NEEDED to help this person. They were probably trying to rush to some
holiday event, too, and needed assistance.
So we stopped. And
he got out and helped them change their tire.
And we were late for the Christmas Eve celebration, but the world did
not stop turning because of it.
In fact, the world got just a tiny bit better. Because I learned the lesson from my dad that
sometimes you need to sacrifice a bit, put yourself out some, to be kind and
help someone else. And that being kind
mattered more than sitting down in time for dinner or opening a pile of
gifts.
Dad holding me - 1966. He had great hair then, didn't he? |
It sounds corny, but that lesson was a great Christmas
present. I don’t think I ever thanked
him for teaching me by example that night, and I doubt he even remembers it,
but I sure do. THANKS DAD. I think of you changing that flat tire often
when I see someone who needs help and for a fleeting second I wonder if I should
be the one to pause my life and offer assistance.
My wedding day - hug from Dad |
At Dad's birthday party |
Thanks for the lesson, Dad. I love
you.
Old time Christmas with my mom and dad. That outfit was probably the one he gave her the Christmas before!! This is exactly the type of outfit I remember him getting for her. |
One last Dad photo - with a huge halibut he caught in Alaska!! |
Love this. Parents are our first and most influential teachers.
ReplyDeleteI agree. I am in Omaha this week and I got to show this piece to my dad. He cried reading it (he also admired his flattop haircut in the old photos :) ). I was surprised and delighted to learn that he remembers this incident, too.
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