It was the beginning my 10th grade year at Decatur Public Schools. “What is geometry?” the teacher said. “The little acorn fell to the ground and grew and grew until one day it looked at itself and said, “Gee, I’m a tree!”
I still giggle when I think about that joke. When my girls had geometry, I told them that joke. Each time I tell the joke I think about my 10th grade geometry teacher.
My teacher was my father. This past Sunday morning, my sweet father passed away in his sleep after a 16-year journey with cancer.
When I think about my Dad a lot of ideas and stories come into my mind. I loved to hear him laugh. He had a great sense of humor. He always had a little twinkle in his eye. A few weeks ago, we were talking to him about making sure that he got enough nutrition. I told him that it was important that he drink. “Ok,” he said, “Do you mean whiskey or what?” I looked over at him and saw the little twinkle in his eye. It made me feel so good to see that my Dad was still there.
As a 5-year-old I remember an assignment where the teacher asked us about all of our favorite things. They asked us our favorite colors and our favorite foods. They asked us what our favorite activities were. I didn’t know they were going to tell anyone our answers. I told them very openly and honestly that my very favorite thing was getting to ride on the tractor with my father while he worked.
If I knew he was out working in the field I would walk to where he was and wait in the row for him to come by. He would stop the tractor. I would climb up on the back of the tractor. I would sit on the fender right behind him, bracing my feet on the upper arm of the 3-point hitch. I was happy to just ride along and be with him. I would watch him work and think about how I wanted to be just like him. I dreamed of the day when I would be driving the tractor. I watched how he plowed the field. I looked at everything he did hoping to be able to model it when it came my turn.
He loved the farm. As I grew and started doing more and more on the farm I came to understand. This week as I tried to process things I found myself slowing to look at the fields of my parent’s farm. I imagined being alongside him again picking and sorting peaches, or moving bulk boxes of apples, or shaking and grading cherries, or being a small child walking out into the field for hopes of being able to ride with him on the back of the tractor.
It wasn’t just about how to drive a tractor or plow a field that I was watching. It was so much more than that. In everything that he did he was teaching me – teaching us – how to live.
He taught hard work. He was not afraid of work. I used to be amazed at his energy. He could work and work and never complain. I would struggle to lift the crates of apples. In the cold storage he could not only lift the bushel crates and stack them, but he would take and stack one crate on top of another crate and then lift both of them high over his head. By doing this he could get them stacked one level higher than his highest reach.
I was always amazed at how he would wheel around on the small little forklift loading the storage and the trucks. In the peach orchard he would pull his ladder from tree to tree picking the higher branches. Even now in my mind I can see him walking over to the back of the trailer with a full picking bag, lifting it over the sorting net, and releasing the peaches out of the canvas bottom. Some of those days in the orchard the sun, heat and clouds of peach fuzz would get just miserable. In spite of the heat and heavy work, he never complained. He and Grandpa would chatter on and on as they worked together. In the mornings before we would go out to work, it was often Dad who would get up and make breakfast. To this day, I am the one to make the pancakes in our house, because it was usually my Dad who made the pancakes when we were growing up.
I was so proud of my parents being teachers. Dad was a very smart man. He knew so much about math and chemistry and physics. He was very much an educated and thinking man. When computers became a reality, he took on learning and then teaching computer science. It was no surprise that he would be the one to do this. This week two of my friends from High School reached out to tell me that they became teachers because of my Dad. It is no surprise that Bob and Mary became teachers. I told myself that if both of my parents and my brother and sister were all teachers I would not become a teacher. I now am proud to realize that I practice medicine with the heart of a teacher, teaching my patients, residents and coworkers as I do my job.
It was such an honor to be his son, growing up in Decatur. Everybody knew him and respected him.
He taught so much more than just math and science, however. I was amazed at how he ran his classroom. I never heard him yell or saw him get angry. He didn’t need to. The students loved and respected him so much that they just wanted to please him. If they were getting out of hand he could just stand-up front and look at them and they would immediately settle down.
He taught us how to have a quiet and settled dignity.
He taught us about integrity. He taught us that the most important thing was not what people thought about you, but what you and what God thought about you.
He taught us about faith. He taught us that God sees the intentions of your heart. If deep down your heart is in the right place, the rest will follow.
He taught us about kindness. He really believed Jesus when he said to “turn the other cheek.” He would have rather been taken advantage of than to strike out in anger against another person. It doesn’t mean that he didn’t want to hold people accountable for their faults. It was just that he was willing to be patient and by example let them eventually correct their wrongs. Just like the dignified teacher at the front of the classroom, he didn’t feel the need to yell. He would wait and provide the example and by so doing teach.
I learned contentment. He taught that greatness was not measured by what the world thinks about you. Greatness is measured by doing what is the right thing. He made it clear to us, that if you live the life that God has intended for you live, especially a life that is focused on your family, you will achieve far higher greatness than many who are celebrated by this world.
I learned confidence. We have the family story about the night that he had to figure out how to clean and dress out a deer. He went to his bookshelf and pulled down a book. He read how to do it and then, without ever having done it before, he just did what needed to be done. Time after time in my own life and work, I think of that story and just push ahead. If something needs to be done, I channel my inner, “Dad” and just figure it out and do it.
So, who was our Dad?
- He was a funny man with a twinkle in his eye and a great sense of humor.
- He was a brilliant man, pushing himself to come off of the farm, to go to college and then to lead and educate in his community.
- He was a kind man, loved by all of us and so many in the community.
- He was a loving man. We all always knew we were deeply loved by him.
- He was a man of integrity. He would rather have suffered personal loss than to do something that would go against his conscience. He believed and trusted God that if he did what was the right thing to do, God would work everything out.
- He was a teacher. He taught in the classroom certainly. But he also taught in the orchards and fields and in our home. He taught so many rich and good lessons. He was an excellent teacher.
My parents have been married for over 64 years at Mom at the time of his passing. That is just amazing. I have thought and prayed for how my Mom goes forward without him at her side. This is an important question honestly for all of us. As I prayed and thought about this something important occurred to me. We are not being left without bright, vivid and living images of him. For you see, so much of who we are has been molded and shaped and formed by him.
I am in no way perfect, but there are parts of my personality and who I am that I really value. In those things I see my Dad. Sometimes when I was with him I would not have so much to say to him. That was because I didn’t have to explain to him so much of who I am. Who I am is very much him.
This past week I have been able to observe and watch an amazing legacy. I see so much of him in all of my brothers, sisters, children, nieces and nephews. Looking at them, and looking inside of myself, I am consoled because I see him.
To everyone who knew him, I encourage you to please look carefully at us:
- If you see a kind heart, know that you are seeing my Dad.
- If you see a joy for being outside on the farm, know that you are seeing my Dad.
- If you see a servant’s heart, not afraid to work hard for the benefit of others, know that you are seeing my Dad.
- If you see people holding their heads high, doing what is right just because it is right, you are seeing my Dad.
- If you see a bright mind, learning and teaching, you are seeing my Dad.
- If you see confidence taking on doing something that you have never done before and just doing it because it needs to be done, you are seeing my Dad.
- If you hear a corny joke, or a snide funny little comment, you are seeing my Dad.
The little acorn fell to the ground and grew and grew and one day it looked and said, “Gee, I’m a tree.”
Dad’s little acorns have grown and grown by the power of his person and example. I am so thankful that each of us who knew him can look with wonder and say, “Gee, I’m a tree!” and because of my Dad, they are really good trees.
