Father’s Day

By BECKY NELSON
Bramblings
My father died nine years ago. It doesn’t seem like that long ago, but as the old saw states, “time flies.” This weekend there will be lots of cookouts and maybe even a few breakfasts in bed for fathers. For those who have lost their fathers, or never known their fathers, it will be a very different day. Families are not all that different than when I was a kid. There were lots of “broken” families as they were known back then, and lots of fatherless families, just as there are today. The “traditional” family may be making its way out as we knew it, but those of us who were blessed with caring and loving parents back in the day have something special to hold.

Whether your father figure is a second mom, an uncle, a coach, a friend’s father, a brother or a traditional dad, what matters is love, respect and a guide to help you through this sometimes chaotic, sometimes frightening, most times beautiful life.

My dad was something special. He was usually very quiet and hated social crowds. My best times remembered were walking in the woods with him on a hunting trip or just a hike. He would teach me little details about the animals or birds we saw, and the history of whatever place we were exploring. My mother always said he should have been a history teacher, but standing before a classroom of kids or college kids never would have been comfortable for him. Being the history teacher for we three kids was surely enough for him.

We learned everything from how Native Americans truly walked in the New England forests (popular myth at the time was they tiptoed … they did not, according to my dad.) They firmly planted their heels first then quietly rolled to their toes to keep leaf litter and small branches from disturbing whatever prey they were following, to what certain animals ate during what time of year. We learned what mushrooms were edible and what to stay away from. We learned what swamp plants were edible and what to avoid. We learned about weather patterns and thunderstorms and how long it took sound to travel through the air after a lightning strike so we could hear a thunderclap and know how far away lightning struck.

We learned how to nurture and grow things, how to take care of farm animals, and how to work without complaint. We learned the true value of $1 and how hard it can be to earn one. We learned to be frugal, discerning and to hold our tongues and listen to others before voicing our own opinions. We learned how to handle unjust situations around us and work to make the world a better place. We learned to appreciate the natural world and everything around us and work to preserve it.

We learned to love one another and respect each other’s opinions, often having long conversations and disagreements about historical facts or political activities. We learned to love the written language, devouring books alongside him in the evening and then discussing what we read and what it meant, whether poetry or history. We learned to dig worms for fishing, how to bait a hook, how to cast when in a boat, how to remove a fish from the hook without hurting the fish if we were going to release it and then how to clean a fish and get it ready for the frying pan. We learned where the fish liked to hang out in the brook, what it ate, how it spawned … all from dad.

We learned how to avoid conflict, how to navigate around heated arguments to come out the other side without vehemence, and yes, we learned how to settle ourselves when our hot tempers got the best of us. We learned how to tell a good story and more importantly, how to listen. My Dad was a gentle man, full of humor and wit and easily laughed at our jokes and our antics. Later in life he was an inspiration in fortitude and guts as he went along his daily life with great pain and his bad ticker as his companions, never complaining, working every single day until the very day he died. My dad was a one-of-a-kind guy, just like every dad. I hope you were as blessed as I was and have fond memories of yours.

I have a favorite photo of dad hanging at our store. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be the farmers we are today, and I can’t go by the photo without all the feels. If he or your dad figure is still living, I urge you to take him to his favorite place, play a round of his favorite game or sport, take him to the movies if he likes film, take him for a ride in his favorite car or a walk in his favorite woods, and take lots of pictures to help remember all those special dad things you did and learned. Happy Father’s Day.