I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad lately. It might be because of Easter, holidays do that, or it might be because spring is finally here and we used to talk about, and do, projects around the compound. Either way, he’s been on my mind. If you have multiple kids, or have siblings, you know every parent/child relationship is different. Personalities are different and how you deal with those differences makes those relationships, well, different. So I’m not saying my relationship was better than my siblings, it was just different.

When I left active duty in 1984 there were only two certainties in my life. #1, I was joining the reserves and #2, we were moving home to Pittsburgh. We weren’t quite sure of our housing arrangements but we knew we didn’t want to be far from either of our parents. During the six years I spent on active duty our single largest monthly bill was our phone bill. Every Sunday afternoon we would call my folks and talk, way too long. We talked about family, politics, issues at church, and plans for coming home. But we never really nailed down the “where” of the move until we got here. We didn’t talk about it, but my dad had a plan. I don’t think we had been here 24 hours when my dad proposed giving us my mom’s rhubarb patch to build a house, I don’t like rhubarb anyway, and gave us a brochure from a local home builder. We’re still in that house. And that’s why my relationship with my dad is a little different than my siblings. For the next 18 years I saw my dad almost every day. Some days it was only a wave as I came home late from work but there were lots of roofs to fix, plumbing to repair, dirt to move, porches to build, grass to cut, snow to shovel, and near death tree removal experiences. And since we shared many of the same passions, we sat together on the boards of multiple organizations and talked endlessly about those passions. God, family, and country, in that order, and he never lost his passion for any of them.

He introduced me to Rush (Limbaugh, not the band) and Jim Quinn and tried to talk me into running for office until I explained to him that, as a federal employee, I couldn’t. I think in another life he would have run for office and he would have been fantastic. Unlike me, he was an extrovert and he had what you would call “the gift of gab”. He could talk to anyone about anything and make them feel like his best friend.  But having five kids and being a small, sole proprietor, businessman left him with no time to be directly involved in the political process. He did, however, care deeply about our little township and when things were going sideways in the community he convinced several neighbors to run, get elected, and get things back on track. He was also the head of the township planning commission. A position he accepted because the state and federal government were trying to reach their tentacles into how local municipalities zone properties, effectively seizing personal property rights.

It’s been nearly 12 years since he passed but a day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about him.   I know you’ve all seen the WWJD , What Would Jesus Do?, bracelets. I understand the concept but I’m not comfortable claiming to know what Jesus would do in every situation in the world. Too many people have made that claim and had it end very badly. Jamestown for example. I do, however, ask that question every day and I also ask the question WWDD, What Would Dad Do? I know that it would be ridiculous to speak for someone who was never in the situation in question but I think I have a pretty good idea how he felt and how he thought. We didn’t agree on every question like,” Should I use these new deck screws to put that together or should I straighten out these old rusty 16 penny nails and use them?”, or, “Should I buy the $12 Glacier Bay faucet or the $40 Moen?”, but on the big picture questions he had a huge influence on who I am today.

I miss you dad.