A Father's Love

For 37 years, my dad worked for Boeing as a computer programmer, before retiring some years back. He did some pretty amazing things for the company, though he’s modest about his accomplishments. Unfortunately, I did not inherit my dad’s math genes but it’s okay, because there are plenty of things I did get from him—things he took the time to teach me. Some of them were simple, like how to make a primo peanut butter sandwich (toasting the bread is key), and how to shoot a free-throw (and then how to do it facing backwards). Others were more challenging, like how to deal with life’s disappointments and the people who disappoint you. More than anything, my dad taught me about love. Every Saturday, rain or shine, but mostly rain, my dad stood on the sidelines of a soccer field and cheered me on. Every fall and spring, he came to my school to listen to me sing a solo (usually off-key) or play my clarinet (also usually off-key). When another driver injured me and totaled my car on my first day of college, my father drove me to school almost every day for the rest of the semester. It was an hour and a half there and back, plus more mileage going to his job in the opposite direction, and he did it twice a day.

That’s love.

It was during those long drives that, for the first time in my life, I really got to know my father as a person. We’d stop for ice cream cones and, on the way home, talk about what life was like for him growing up in Nebraska during the depression, his experiences as a Navy gunner in the Korean War, and how he had courted my mom when they both worked at the Nebraska News Press. I loved hearing his stories. I loved learning about this man I had come to admire. I still deal with a bit of pain from that car accident, but I wouldn’t change what happened for anything. It gave me the most precious gift a daughter can have: time with my dad. So if your dad is still in this world, spend a little time with him. You just might discover, as I did, some things you didn’t know. By the way, the next time you take your seat on a Boeing commercial jet, look down. My dad helped write the software program to make sure those floor panels under your feet were accurately cut and fitted. Pretty amazing, huh?