My Dad

Not long after Ed and I were married and settled into our duplex, a robin couple decided the rafters of our porch would be a wonderful spot for their new home. They tried for several days to build a nest in different locations, long grass and other things falling down on our porch. We were pretty sure they wouldn’t manage to build anything on those narrow boards, but one day we came home and had new neighbors! For a while, it worked out fine. But now they have babies on the way and spend a lot more time in their little nest. Because of this, they are making a mess on our porch. Ed’s response: “Those birds have to go.” He sounded just like my dad…

Today my dad turns 60 years old. And he has been my dad for over 34 years. Before that, he was a little boy mentioned in the letters we recently found from my grandmother: “Little Joey is doing well in school,” “Joey is anxious for Christmas to arrive,” or “Joey likes sharing a room with his new baby sister.” Little Joey grew up to be a bigger Joey, playing high school football and dating Pat Ogilvie whom he would marry in 1977 after graduating from the United States Naval Academy the year before. After traveling the world on ships (not boats), he would be given shore duty in Newport, Rhode Island where his first child (me!) was born. After that, we just traveled the United States in cars, vans and trucks. As my mom always said, “You can take the man out of the Navy – but you can’t take the Navy out of the man.”

I have lots of memories of my dad. Where else would I have learned how to pin someone down in a wrestling match and count, shouting at the end, “I’m the winner!” (I mean, my three-year-old self must have pinned Dad’s shoulders down with all my brute strength, right?) Or to shout, “Go Navy! Beat Army!” with passion? Or how to cast a fishing line (off the front porch), blow bubbles with my gum, play checkers (I did break the rule, “Daddy always wins” and beat him once!), jump off the diving board before I was 2, pump up a bike tire, drive a stick-shift (and even though I cried through nearly every lesson, I’ve never owned an automatic), paint walls (with white paint, of course) or pump gas?

My dad was the man who read to me from my Bible story book every night before I went to bed. He led us in family prayers. He encouraged me in memorizing Bible verses before I could write my own name. He helped me win my first Bible. He also taught me the importance of tithing (and good stewardship of everything the Lord gives me). He took us to church every Sunday and Wednesday, plus almost every other day the church was open. And he continues to set an example of hard work, faithfulness in marriage and being a loving dad.

During our marriage counseling (over three-way phone calls since I was in Minnesota), Pastor Ben asked me about my family, especially my parents. I don’t remember exactly what I said. I know I didn’t say anything I wouldn’t normally say to anyone who asked, but when I finished he had only one comment, “Ed, you have a hard act to follow.” And maybe he does. Or maybe my dad just set the path my husband will now walk with me. I just know I’m now doubly blessed with two godly men in my life.

Happy Birthday, Dad!