Tomorrow the family will drive out of state to my father-in-laws house to cook for him and spend the day in celebration of Father's Day. If my Dad were alive he would have been 90 years old. I can't tell you how much I miss him. And, it really surprises me. I always loved my dad but I wasn't as close to him as I was to my mother. But, when he died, it was if a big part of him stayed with me.
My Dad's father was Henry, the alcoholic in this blogs title. Daddy was so feisty and sweet, all rolled up together. He was tough but honest and willing to give so many others a shot that they might not have gotten otherwise.
Later in his life, he began buying rental properties. They were little, inexpensive homes in need of love, money and some elbow grease. We teased him a lot calling him the slum lord. But, he would take these homes and clean them up, repair what needed repairing, give them new paint and floors and rent or sell them to folks that might not have been able to come up with a down payment or bank financing.
To this day, I run into people who will tell me that they wouldn't have ever owned a home, had it not been for my father. I am still so proud of him. Because my Dad....my lovely sweet Dad, grew up with an abusive alcoholic father that sent him to work instead of school and took that money to drink, and as the son of that sharecropper he never had a home of his own until he married my mother and he knew what that meant to someone and he gave back.
So today on the eve of Father's Day I want to offer up prayers of thanksgiving for my Dad. I am so thankful for the man he was and the lessons he left me. I pray for our sons and daughters, that they might have healing. And, I also pray for the soul of Henry.
My Dad's father was Henry, the alcoholic in this blogs title. Daddy was so feisty and sweet, all rolled up together. He was tough but honest and willing to give so many others a shot that they might not have gotten otherwise.
Later in his life, he began buying rental properties. They were little, inexpensive homes in need of love, money and some elbow grease. We teased him a lot calling him the slum lord. But, he would take these homes and clean them up, repair what needed repairing, give them new paint and floors and rent or sell them to folks that might not have been able to come up with a down payment or bank financing.
To this day, I run into people who will tell me that they wouldn't have ever owned a home, had it not been for my father. I am still so proud of him. Because my Dad....my lovely sweet Dad, grew up with an abusive alcoholic father that sent him to work instead of school and took that money to drink, and as the son of that sharecropper he never had a home of his own until he married my mother and he knew what that meant to someone and he gave back.
So today on the eve of Father's Day I want to offer up prayers of thanksgiving for my Dad. I am so thankful for the man he was and the lessons he left me. I pray for our sons and daughters, that they might have healing. And, I also pray for the soul of Henry.
3 comments:
A wonderful story..strengthens my faith in the good in people.
Enjoy your day, the Dad and I are treating ourselves to hot fudge sundaes!
What a precious story. Thank you for sharing that with us. It is amazing to me, as in miraculous, what a rough childhood can give to a person. Your dad sounds like he was a compassionate man.
Thanks guys the hot fudge sounds great Lou. And, Annette, he was a good man. I miss him so much.
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