Sunday, June 16, 2013


My dad grew up in the previous Depression.

He mined coal in Pennsylvania.

My dad landed at Normandy, and was at Bastogne during the Bulge.

He came home.

He married mom and became a dad.

He provided a home and an education for me and my brothers.

He led at Boy Scouts. Took us camping and on long vacations.

He taught me right from wrong and to stand up for myself and others.

And how to work on cars.

There are people who have looked at this picture and asked when I owned an old car like that since when I was younger I looked just like my dad in that picture.

A number of years ago, my dad came down with congestive heart disease and was told he only had about 6 months to live.
At the urging of his wife and Scherie, I started taking him out to breakfast on Saturday mornings.
We prayed for God to heal him and extend his life.
We did the Saturday morning (and afternoon) thing for six years.
I would occasionally attempt to get him to accept God's offer of salvation and was rebuffed.
A short while before he died, he was out in his shop getting a tool and his wife asked me if I was okay with the thought of my dad passing.
I told her that my only concern was for his soul.
She told me to ask him about that again, and I told her I didn't want to upset him.
He came in the house and she told him that I had a concern about his approaching departure (geez, the guy was still walking and talking and working in his shop) so he asked me and I told him.
That's when he told me that he had asked Jesus to forgive him of his sins and accept him into heaven, did I have any more questions?
I pressed a bit to assure myself I understood him right and then the three of us prayed.

A couple months later, he went to the hospital and they brought him home to die.
My brother and I held him (attempting to sit him up in his favorite chair) as he passed, quietly, peacefully surrounded by family that had assembled.

I miss him.
But I see him in his grandson.

Happy Father's Day.

2 Samuel 12:23 KJV
King James Version
But now he is dead , wherefore should I fast ? can I bring him back again ? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.


  1. Ed,

    Thank you for your Father's Day post. It's beautiful. I'm always impressed by your heartfelt sincerity and devotion.

    Thanks too for posting that wonderful poem by Mr. Hayden. I know that poem, but haven't though of it in ages -- a great piece of work. The beauty in Austerity, Sacrifice and Devotion to Duty is very powerful -- very moving -- once we're aware of it.

    It took the oddly shocking incident I described at Z's to wake me up. Thank God it did, though it was distressing at the time.

    Amazing the power good poetry, novels, drama and great music have to transform lives in the twinkling of an eye!

    Wherever there is Truth, there is Love and wherever those things live God lives too.

    Hope your Father's Day was delightful.

  2. Thanks FT for the kind remarks.
    It was.

  3. Ed,
    What a wonderful post for Fathers Day! And you have the real blessing of knowing that your dad is with the Lord -- it doesn't get better than that!

  4. BTW, men of that generation were often quieter about their faith in the Lord. I know that my father was, anyway.

    When I was getting ready to take dad to the hospital -- for the last time, as it turned out -- Dad turned to me and said, "Is this it?"

    I answered: "Would that be so bad? You know your eternal destination, right?"

    Dad smiled and nodded. Then he said, "Get the papers and use them." He meant his advance medical directive, drawn up about a decade earlier. "Remember what I said. No nursing home ever."

  5. Is this it? I hope I face it as well. With confidence!

  6. Ironically, i have always been intrigued with history; this insatiable thirst for "Motive!".... and, for some reason i have never Googled "us!" So, my question is... Your father... my Grandfather??? he was at Normandy? yes, familes drift apart.... And i get that! and i know Our family isnt all that "close", but you would think that this is a story(Normandy) people would brag about and would want their children and grandchildren to remember!