Wisdom of Our Fathers

While spending time in my sewing room tonight, I watched a bit of Tum Russert's show on CNBC. Tom Brokaw was guest hosting, interviewing Tim about his new book, Wisdom of Our Fathers. Tim recounted a number of stories that are told in the book, stories that were sent to him by men and women about their fathers. Stories of unconditional acceptance, stories of belief when no one else believed.

I immediately went to find Tim's e-mail address, as I wanted to share my memories with him. Since I couldn't find his address, I'll share it here.

You may have gathered, over the ten-and-a-half months that I've been posting to this blog, that my mother and I are not close. She is quite possibly the most critical person who was ever born. Whatever personality traits she has should be on a social services checklist for things to look for when denying a person's request to adopt a child. (Upon rereading, I must state that she is a good person. And she really did a lot for me for which I am grateful—all the schlepping to piano lessons, the dresses sewn, the meals cooked. She was a good housewife, she just wasn't a good mother to me.)

With Mother I never felt good enough, never felt loved, never felt accepted. She always set the bar very high, and when I came close to reaching that bar, would pull it even higher. I have said numerous times that I was raised to believe I was dumb, ugly and incompetent. That perception came from Mother and my brothers.

But my daddy. Oh, he was different. With Daddy I felt I was more than good enough. I felt loved, accepted, cherished. He died twenty-three years ago, but he still whispers in my ear that I'm a good girl. Mother couldn't be bothered to come from Florida to Maryland for my college graduation when I was 37 years old, but I knew how proud Daddy would have been. My mother never fully understood or appreciated how hard I worked to get through law school, but I knew Daddy would have been proud of me.

Daddy wasn't around a lot, as he worked very long hours in his medical practice. But he somehow packed quality into the time we had together. I pride myself on being like him, possessing his work ethic, his love of crossword puzzles, his need to stay busy, to not be bored. I try to treat my children and grandchildren as Daddy treated me, and I encourage Tyler and Jaci not to pay back to me, but to pay forward to their children.

I wrote the other day that, despite the hardship in my life, I've been blessed. One of the greatest blessings was the luck of the draw in getting John Crews as my Daddy.