What Daddy Taught Me

What my Daddy Taught Me We should never underestimate what our parents are teaching us, either by spoken words, body language, or modeling. So often, it is from what they don’t say that we learn the most. Daddy died when I was thirteen, and one of my best memories is when dad would take us to visit his three sisters that lived within 50 miles of us. One of daddy’s sisters lived in the same town as did we, and on weekends dad would take us boys to visit and spend a night at her home. We always enjoyed playing cowboys and watching television. Dad's other sister had a farm and lived in a big house. The big house and yard always provided us with lots of fun. I remember the family sitting around laughing and talking while a wonderful dinner was being prepared. Those sweet aromas from that kitchen triggered every sensory nerve in our little bodies. My dad’s other sister lived several miles away, and her family was always happy to see us come to visit and share a wonderful time together. We always had great fun, rich fellowship, and good tasty food. Dad was planting seeds of family life, realizing that the family seed must never die. He worked hard making sure that we were properly nourished and cared for, but he knew that there was more to life than working. He thrived to nourish our lives by showing us the eternal values of family. At one Aunt's funeral in 2004, a cousin walked over and said, “Hi Curtis”. I could not believe that he remembered me from 40 years before. The fact that I wore glasses and was full bearded, did not disguise me in the least. Dad had planted seeds that would produce a massive harvest. The harvest was one of many “magical moments”, like the one in which my cousin remembered me. Daddy saw us in the distance; and those "moments" were cleverly designed by him more than a generation before. Dad knew that they were building a vast family treasure chest. No, this treasure wasn’t a big bank account, or cars, or houses, or land. No, he didn’t fill this treasure chest with gold, silver, brass, or dollar bills. When we gathered for fun, food, and fellowship, dad was laying a foundation for an indestructible treasure. He was building a legacy that would not be devastated by fires, or ruined by floods, or swallowed by earthquakes, or wiped out by the stock market. Making enduring family memories, he was teaching us the value of family. 061907 (Condensed 12302015 for PS Contest about Daddies)