You won’t believe this one, but it’s a TRUE STORY. Ask anyone in my family.
My father was not a nice man. In fact, he was mean, angry, big and strong, so my mom, my siblings and I were all intimidated by him. Love in our home came only from Mom.
She preceded him in death, so when he was alone and nearing the end of his life, my brother and two sisters who still lived nearby tried to avoid him.
A master manipulator, he would call whichever one was talking to him at the moment and threaten suicide. They would of course drop everything to go see him, make sure he had food, and spend time with him, which was what he wanted.
Once, he called my sister and told her not to come, that he would be dead by the time she got to his house. After he hung up the phone, she called him back. When he found out it was her, he hung up. Twice. (I guess he wasn’t too serious about that suicide thing.)
Well, Sis called a pastor friend who knew Dad and asked if he’d intervene. The friend called her back shortly, chuckling. Apparently, when Dad was in the Army, he had gotten the impression that whiskey and bananas created a fatal combination. So he was sitting in his house with a bottle of cheap whiskey and a bunch of bananas to kill himself. Needless to say, it wouldn’t work.
A few years later, Dad died. I flew home for the funeral to get with my siblings and deal with deep, conflicting emotions.
My sister’s church organist was ill, so she asked if I would play the organ for Dad’s service. She had several music books, so I chose several appropriate numbers to set the proper mood.
Prior to the service, quiet, peaceful strains of “I’m learning to lean on Jesus” wafted through the church. Then, I segued into “Yes, we have no bananas.” Yep, you read that right! A tongue-in-cheek nod to that failed suicide attempt.
Most of the family knew ahead of time what I’d be playing, so they were all in place early so as not to miss the performance. Many of them started laughing quietly, along with me, as the song progressed. In fact, some of them were laughing so hard, their shoulders were shaking. Folks behind them surmised that the song was special to Dad, and that they were sobbing over it!
My older sister, not privy to what was happening, gave me “the mom look” to stop smiling, since the organ was in the front of the church. I just grinned back at her.
Over lunch, several folks were told the story but didn’t believe it, so I had to repeat the performance quite a few times.
Now, why did I tell you this? Wasn’t this to be a post about the influence fathers have in the lives of their children?
Yes, and that’s what it is.
Fathers (and mothers) choose the legacy they leave by the lives they lead. They may be perfect examples of a servant-leader or they may be the opposite.
A bad father can teach his children to be bad people by example, or to be good people by the offsprings’s determination not to follow in his footsteps.
When Father’s Day rolls around every year, you might remember your dad fondly and sing his praises. If so, I’m jealous. I haven’t sung my father’s praises in decades.
But I do sing “Yes, we have no bananas” occasionally. And I smile at the memory.
What kind of legacy are you leaving as a parent? It’s never to late to change.
