THOUGHTS ABOUT
DAD FROM HIS SON
By Charles C. McLaughlin
My father had another side -- the man at home in the privacy of his family.
The private side always carries a more human aspect of living.
In spite of mistakes and shortcomings, my dad was as great a father
as he was a leader for Texas Baptists.
Every grandchild in the family,
ages 16 to 23, idolized their
Dadaw. The following poem was written when my
dad passed away. I
wanted to share it with you, my Texas Baptist Committed friends, who have
been so supportive and understanding during dad's illness and death.
How do you ever get enough of someone you love? It is the time I did not think of you dying, when you did. As I watched you forever leaving I just wanted one more time with you. Come-on dad, revive again, lets have one more! One more time of throwing the ball and playing catch in the front yard. One more time of game board football… Y.A. Tittle style, the best game ever made. One more time of progressive rummy, loud and aggressive with the crazy competitive nature of our family shining. One more time I’d like to watch you playing charades, laugh again at your frustration to act out the word “erotic” to get a movie title across to your team. One more time in church, let me be a boy, sitting beside you in a pew and feel that quiet pinch to keep me quiet… or awake. One more time to call you to meet me half-way for prayer about the struggles facing a young minister. One more time to hear a story of your growing up years… the faithfulness of my grandparents, the rowdiness of your brothers, the adventures of Fred Swank, the strange events of war. As I looked at you leaving, I would have liked one more time to make you some coffee, cook you a meal, or give you another shave. I do not need it, but I wouldn’t mind seeing your eyes water and hear you say words about how you are proud of me. But there is one thing I do not need to hear. I do not need to hear you say, “you love me.” Those are words you said enough and in so many ways that what I received from you was good enough. It was your best sermon and it came through to my heart. You said it when we talked about God together. Not the pious talk. The conversations about faith and how to live out your life. How to treat others. How to treat yourself. How to forgive and how to forgive yourself. You said it when you sacrificed financially to help when it was needed. You said it when you loved my older brother at times when he would be more than very difficult to love. How you related to him, may well have been your greatest accomplishment. Dad, I saw the love in your eyes, I heard it in your voice, and I felt it in your actions. It was hard to get enough of you until the last year of your life, but I did get enough of your love to last me all of mine. |
September 1999