A Southern Daughter's Appreciation on Father's Day



If I tell you that John Wayne's my daddy, you get the picture. I grew up in the down-reaching part of the country, in a place where palm trees would grow if they could edge out the long lash pines. It is a place where speech flows like Karo Syrup: clear, sweet, and slow. It's a place where hugs wrap all the way around you and rub your cheeks. They leave a lingering smell on your clothes of White Diamonds or Old Spice. I grew up in the 60's and 70's, before all the roles of men and women got swirled around and pureed. It was a time when right and wrong hadn't faded to tepid gray.

My dad is still that man. It is 2011. He is the hitchpost of our family. The place that is stable and we can tie ourselves to from time to time to get a perspective on the world. He is a man that loves his wife and daughters. He gets an understated smile when spending time with his 4 grandchildren. He gets a sparkle in his eye when he has reeled you in to a joke. He has a couple of friends for which he'd take a bullet.

He is a man that will not change his mind, even if you butter it up and try to use big words. He loves a steak and if he likes you he'd be happy for you to pull up a chair. He still likes a hot cup of black coffee and a working man's breakfast . He works until he is sweating and his hands blistered. Then it is time to "knock off and have a drink of tea." He will not waste your time chatting, but if he has something to say, you had better put your drink down and lean in because he is not going to repeat it. He opens doors for women and keeps wood on the fire in the winter. He carries a hankerchief in the breast pocket of his jacket. He probably has a firearm somewhere close.

 He still expects my sister and me to do the right thing and say,"Yes sir." He'd call us if he heard different. He still asks if we have gas in the car, air in the tires, and oil in the engine. He wants us home by dark; no need to be out that late, even though we live hundreds of miles apart. He asks how we are doing and how is work. He calls, "just to check in." He would come immediately if we needed him. No questions. He'd be there.



That's my dad!
 Happy Father's Day, Earl Sasser



It means a lot to an 'ol Southern gal to know that my dad is still keeping an eye on the old homeplace. He is still the hitchpost of our family no matter how far we have wondered out in this big world. He hasn't changed a bit. I still feel at home just thinking about him. Happy Father's Day, Dad! 

Winning the Lottery

My boys won the lottery! They got gold! They rolled bank! Every morning of their lives that have gotten up and felt an invisible hand on their backs. They step out into the world knowing that their dad unconditionally supports  them. Their dad believes and buys into their dreams and then sees the vision even bigger than they first imagined.

It is has though they have lived a presidential life with the Secret Service going ahead of them and looking out for them always. Each day all of their needs, wants, and comforts have been considered before his own. He is selfless in how he supports them and me.

Although their dad has only loved them and not intended to prove anything or set any examples he has. He has actually lived the life that shows how a man loves his family. He has by his daily life lived a life that mirrors how God loves us. They have felt the security and comfort of being  loved, just like a Christian feels the comfort of resting in the steadfastness of God. He has loved them unconditionally, but is always quick to give a word of advice, encouragement and redirection.

They have learned how to have fun! Their dad has shown them! He has coached t-ball, baseball, soccer, and hockey (that was a stretch for a man who has been planted in the south). I don't recall him ever missing a game. In fact he was always early. He took weekends to go watch them play ball.  He has gotten tickets for concerts to their favorite bands and actually GONE to the show, even though the music was loud, undecipherable,  he was up way past his bed time and had to go to work the next morning. He has ridden the same rollercoaster multiple times.He has buried nickels in the backyard so my  then preschool boys would think they found buried treasure on St Patrick's Day. He has stood in lines for Power Rangers and cellphones. He has made pancakes and loaded them with all kinds of tasty ingredients. He has made brownies in the middle of the night so they can watch movies with fast cars, robots and space creatures. He has driven miles to get them to see exhibits that they have found interesting. He has supplied them with money for dances and dates. He has bought guitars and amps and computers and gadgets! He has scoured book stores and libraries to find books that support their passions.

They won! They lucked out! They hit jackpot! Happy Father's Day, Dean!