Dwight D. Eisenhower once said, "No man is worth your tears, but once you find one that is, he wont make you cry". I disagree.
Last Saturday as I listened to an NPR program commemorating fathers day I felt the sudden urge to bawl over, I cleared my throat but couldn't hold back the tears. Even though the stories shared were different from mine the themes of strength, commitment, devotion, hard work, sacrifice, wisdom, guidance, truth and protection connected us across the airwaves. I was reminded of some of the men who have influenced my life; my husband, my father, my grand father and my grand father in-law (does such a title exist?).
Each morning I see the urgency and commitment in a father's eyes as he dresses his daughter. He picks clothes that match, and smiles with pride when her hair is tidy because he doesn't know the first thing about girls hair. He would if he knew how. I see the concern in his eyes and hear the strength in his voice as he cautions his son. I sense his wish to live life on his son's behalf - to make the right decisions, to show him how to listen and follow instructions so his path is straight. If life lessons could be sipped through a cup, if the values of hard work, discipline, consistency and a relationship with God could be eaten up like a piece of cake he would bake it. He probes, he answers questions, he reads chapter long stories each night and prays even gets a soft stomach as he watches a young man emerge from the cocoon of a bedroom where he tends to hibernate for hours. A young man who questions, challenges and pushes back at his family and the world. There is a desperation and a prayer "Oh God help me do this right". As I watch how would these tears not flow?
I think of my father, with all his failures and faults, his mistakes and errors. I think of his frailty now over 70 years later and recall the strong, bold, tower that he was in his youth.
Not a single memory of school milestones come to mind without his shadow right there. The drive to nursery school each morning and the moments he stopped to talk with the headmistress Ms. Ampaire. The Primary 1 interview at Kitante Primary School with Ms. Mugerwa, he waited outside. The class days he attended without fail. My first day in boarding school and each consecutive term that followed for four years. His effort to get school fees in times of financial hardship.
I am the last of six children - those are many years of commitment considering that there is a 10 year age difference between the first and last child. How would these tears not flow?
Grandpa made me laugh so hard my stomach ached, I was out of breath, my eyes wet with tears. As I think back what he said was not that funny but he knew how to engage a 5 year old and that's all that mattered. He told stories of his days in the army, of the military training in Tanzania and how it made him more resilient and how he got the swoosh on his forehead from a bullet that narrowly missed his skull. He was funny - I guess that's what grandpas are for. So tell me, how would these tears not flow?
I thought I had received all the grandpa love I could get until I met my husbands grandpa. He was larger than life - 6 foot 3 inches, full of love and compassion. Rev. Canon Ernest Nshakira. There are 3 vivid events that encompass what he meant to me.
Our first encounter - I was nervous, not sure what he would make of this atesot interested in his grand son. He enveloped me in a bear hug and said welcome. "Like tea is better with sugar and cream, so is a marriage of people from different cultures" I paraphrase, but right there and then, I knew I had received his blessing. In his eyes we were all the same, no Jew or gentiles, no slave or free, no Baganda, Luo, Iteso or Bakiga, we were all beautiful people loved by God.
He gathered his grandchildren around him in Kabale and opened his favorite scripture to recount how blessed he was: Psalm 127: 3-6
Children are a heritage from the Lord,
offspring a reward from him.
Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
are children born in one’s youth.
Blessed is the man
whose quiver is full of them.
They will not be put to shame
when they contend with their opponents in court.
He was a pillar of faith, of trust, of humility. A man who hid God's word in his heart.
After being hospitalized in Nsambya he yearned to return to the village, "I miss my wife. I want to see her face and spend time with her". After 50 years of marriage if that is not love, I don't know what is.
Through these men I know what it means to be loved, secure, encouraged, led and sorted. No single man can be all things but God stations his men at different stages in our lives to give us a glimpse of His character.
I celebrate fathers who are here and those who have gone before. The men who have filled in the gap, who have been there for children both young and old.
Even the men that are worth our tears can make us cry but they are tears of gratitude.
Happy Father's Day and Thank you!
