Enough Said

It's Father's Day and I was sitting alone, eating a nice lunch, while number one daughter went off with friends on her first day back in "college town." It would have been quite enjoyable. Had it not been for "the dad."

"The dad" was in the booth behind me. I couldn't see him. I never saw him, really, but I could hear him. He was talking to his "daughter." And he was telling her how disappointed he was in her. How sad she made him feel. How he wished she had made better choices. I couldn't see her, either, but every once in a while she would say a couple of words. But mostly it was "the dad" talking. He repeatedly told her the same things, used the same words: disappointed, sad, better choices.

After awhile, a group of young men, probably late teens to early twenties, came in and sat at an adjacent table. With a "dad." Once they had all gotten seated, one of the "boys" said, "Happy Father's Day, Dad. Let's pray." And he led the rest of them in a prayer, a sincere prayer about how they were thankful for this dad and the time they had to share with him; how they appreciated his guidance in their lives; how they hoped they would have the wisdom of this dad. And how they were thankful for their Heavenly father, too.

My ears, which had been trying to block out "The dad" conversation at the table behind me, were now riveted to this table full of young men. Young men who weren't afraid to pray in public, weren't afraid to thank their Heavenly father for their "dad." I listened to their laughter, to the dad giving advice, to their talk of the future and of possible ministries in their church and beyond. And I envied them. And I wanted to be like them.

I wonder what the life of "The dad" would have been like had he chosen a different route with his daughter? What if he had found something in her life to be proud of. Something to compliment her on. Something in her life he could take interest in. And how would her life had been different. Had he always "been disappointed" in her? Had she always lived with his disappointment in her choices? How much different could BOTH of their lives been---if "The dad" had chosen differently?

From this day forward, I vow to be like the second "dad." Oh, I don't know much about him. But I can guess pretty well: Church is important to him. He goes and he makes sure his kids go. He talks to them about what is important in the world, not just his world, but "The World." He tells them that others have bigger needs than we do, and that it's our job to help others. He tells his kids they can make a difference.

That's the kind of  "dad" I want to be. Oh, ok, I'm a mom, but I want to be THAT kind of a mom. I hope it's not too late.