It hasn’t been easy being a father, or a parent, during the past year of uninterrupted concern about the pandemic.
Fathers often went to work in a spare room in the house.
Mothers suffered a similar plight.
The kids attended school in the home.
We often felt trapped with no hope of escape.
It’s a wonder that we have survived this year-long challenge.
So, why celebrate Father’s Day?
My father, the music man.
Why not celebrate an Unmasking Day? a Travel Day? a Freedom Day?
I am the first to confess that I am responsible for helping produce four children who survived childhood primarily because they were on a ball field, in a gym or on a track working out and competing. During the school year, they were either in the classroom or in the principal’s office. On days off and during the summer, we hiked, fished, played games, explored the world around us.
In any event, I am uncertain how my children view Father’s Day. Maybe I’ll find out come Sunday.
My father trained as a classical violinist, but the First World War and a love affair with the daughter of Kansas wheat farmers ended that career.
After mustering out of the Navy, my father worked as a cook in a rural Kansas café. During an afternoon “break,” he and fellow workers watched a blonde walk along a street nearby.
“Betcha a quarter you couldn’t get near that girl,” a buddy blurted. “She’s home for the summer from the University of Kansas.”
“You’re on.”My father’s fellow workers didn’t know that he could play the violin and that the blonde played piano with a group of local musicians during vacation breaks from the university.
Guess who showed up at the next rehearsal?
I never heard my father complain about hitching up a team of horses and working the field rather than pursuing a career as a classical violinist.
Rather, he played violin during worship services at the church we attended. After moving from Kansas to the Ozark Hills in southern Missouri, he became a popular lead for folk musical groups because he could hear a tune and then play it in any key.
My father also played his violin every evening before going to bed, a practice he pursued as long as he lived.
As I thought about Father’s Day this year, I was reminded that my father helped teach me the value of mastering the basics and of chasing a dream, a dream that can be lived every day — and night — of your life.
That was my father, the music man.
May your Father’s Day be as memorable.
