Saturday, December 13, 2014

A Rainy Day Memory Of My Dad

Yesterday brought a really big rain storm -- thanks be to God -- to California. We haven't seen one like it in quite a while. And this rainstorm brought back a memory of my dad.

I went to college at San Francisco State University. I was a commuter student -- as most of us were. I lived at home with my family in Redwood City and would drive our Chevy Citation or Chrysler 300 -- whichever one happened to be working -- to school each day. I took the 280, so it was a pretty simple, straightforward, lacking-in-traffic, half an hour drive to get from my house to SF State.

One day in mid-winter, though, a big storm struck -- much like yesterday's. As I was getting ready to leave for school, my dad approached me. "Stay home from school," he said. "The storm is too bad and it's dangerous to drive in it." I replied that I really couldn't stay home from school. I was a biology major and had two 3-hour labs that day. Labs were pretty difficult -- if not impossible -- to make up. I think I also had a test. I explained my predicament to my father and reassured him that I would be fine. After all -- I drove on the 280. No other road was simpler to navigate than the 280, even in the rain.

My father was not satisfied. He announced that he would drive me to school in the Chrysler 300 -- a big bruiser of a safe car. I told him that was really not necessary. I mean, he also had to go to work. And he would have to leave work early to come pick me up again. In San Francisco. He told me that he would rather drive me and pick me up than worry about me. He told me that he was happy to do it and that it was no problem.

And so he did it. He got dressed and drove me to college. He went back home and went to work. Then he left work early and came and picked me up and drove me back home. He did not complain. He actually looked cheerful about the whole thing. We had a nice father-daughter chat in the car.

And that's the kind of father my father was. I kind of took it for granted that all fathers are that way. I have come to see that they aren't. And I feel so blessed. And I hope my father -- up in Heaven -- knows how blessed I feel.

Pax.