Dads

Today as we celebrate Father’s Day, most of us will stop and reflect on personal experiences that we have had with our “Fathers”.

The Online Etymology Dictionary on “father” states:

Old English fæder: "he who begets a child, nearest male ancestor;" also "any lineal male ancestor; the Supreme Being," and by late Old English, "one who exercises parental care over another," from Proto-Germanic fader (source also of Old Saxon fadar, Old Frisian feder, Dutch vader, Old Norse faðir, Old High German fatar, German vater; in Gothic usually expressed by atta), from PIE pəter- "father" (source also of Sanskrit pitar-, Greek pater, Latin pater, Old Persian pita, Old Irish athir "father"), presumably from baby-speak sound "pa." The ending formerly was regarded as an agent-noun affix.

How many people do you know that call their father “father”? Probably not many, for it is too formal.  I prefer Dad.  After all, DaD is a palindrome. If you observe him “coming or going” he looks the same.  It is my intention today to look at three Dads: one that has passed, one that is maturing, and one that is in the prime of his journey.

I will begin with my "Dad".

Being born in 1952, I grew up during the Father Knows Best years.  It was a time of growing prosperity in America when hard working middle class men had the possibility of raising the standard of living for their families.  The father worked long hours and the “house wife” stayed home and dealt with the upbringing of the children.  The father was the family disciplinarian and had the final word on all matters.  It was in this context that my relationship to my Dad was formed.  Dad worked hard, but when he arrived home, I knew he loved me and his large hands and strong arms provided comfort for me and my brothers.

Charles L. Woliver

The following passage is excerpted from Dad’s eulogy, written and delivered by my brother Adam.  I’m proud to include it here today.

He instilled in me and my 2 brothers a strong work ethic.  He always told me as I left the house either going to school or going to my summer job…”do the best job you can today”….My dad told all 3 of his sons to look people in the eye and always tell the truth… My dad was not perfect, but he was a man I admired and try to emulate today.

Happy Dad's Day Dad. I miss you greatly.

Myself as Dad

On January 1, 1987, my son Simon was born.  I was 34 years old.  From that day until the present, my life has been blessed by the many interactive experiences I have had with him.  My memories are filled with uncountable joyous moments: the first time I held him in my arms; watching him push a toddler’s train; teaching him the basic skills of baseball; playing catch; watching him achieve “the Most Valuable Player” of his high school team; participating in his Master’s degree graduation event; being the celebrant in his wedding; observing him develop into a responsible adult; and being present immediately following the birth of his three daughters.

On this Father’s Day, I am proud to acknowledge that I am doubly blessed.  On November 23, 1989, Caroline Elizabeth Robinson Woliver was born.  Caroline has enriched my life in countless ways since that day.  One hears about the unique bond that exists between a father and a daughter and the bond that I have with Caroline is the essence of paternal love.  I retain strong memories of snuggling with her at bedtime when she was a toddler; playing “tickle hound” with her; watching her achieve on the soccer field and on the volleyball court; listening to her sing at home and perform roles on the lyric stage; dancing with her at various occasions; observing her as she blossomed into a loving young lady; and walking her down the aisle at her wedding.  Now, as an adult, I watch her with great pride as she advocates (as an "activist/agitator") for the rights of all people everywhere. I will never tire of her loving hugs!

My son, Simon, as "Dada"

Now, in my golden years, it is with great pride that I observe my son as he fathers his three daughters: Joy, Eva, and Asa Ruth.  Simon lives a balanced life, and is a near perfect Dad.  He is loving, supportive, patient, disciplined, wise, and is a great teacher.  I love my son in his role as “Dad”.

I leave you with this poem by David Lewis Paget

Father and Son

There is the family photograph

That is your father’s face, 

There is your father’s father

Grey-gathering years apace; 

The son, bright-eyed in the morning, 

The father, lined and drawn, 

The son became the father

On the day that you were born.

We’ve all set out on the highway

Our fathers wished us well, 

The sons became the fathers

In the same distinctive spell; 

The road of all beginnings

Is all there is to lend, 

But many a twist, and many a turn

Has married us at the end.

He was my father’s father, 

I am my father’s son, 

We’ve travelled as far, and farther

Than our father’s years have run; 

The twists and turns of fortune

Mean nothing, lost or won, 

But the love of a father’s father, 

And the love of a father’s son.

Happy Father’s Day!

CPW