His cremation ashes will not be any different because I gave my dad a shave before the funeral home took his body from the house he’d lived in for 47 years. On the surface, logic says a shave before cremation…
Sacramental pizza
For my first venture out of the house after surgery, Janice decided that, despite my mobility restrictions, we should go to Costco. So, she shopped while I stood in line, ordering lunch — Costco’s famous cheap hot dogs. By the…
A daughter’s tribute — 50 years later
My brother was 15 and I was 18 when our father died Dec. 4, 1971 — 20 days short of his 46th birthday. Initially it was thought he died of a heart attack; he’d been sick all that previous year….
Joseph, did you know? A reflection on fatherhood during Advent
Three months ago, I became a father to a baby girl — my firstborn. Daily, I am amazed how something so small can draw out of me so much love. I am not underselling it to say that in such…
On Father’s Day, lessons from home, from church, from the SBC — and a better way to be a parent
My father and I are estranged and have been for several years now. I don’t mean for this to sound dramatic, because it isn’t. But just because something isn’t dramatic doesn’t mean there isn’t still pain. Especially around Father’s Day….
The loving witness of a father proves to be strong magic for David Garrard
As a professional magician, Louisville, Ky., resident David Garrard has pulled his fair share of items out of a hat. But his new book about his late father, Baptist pastor Forrest C. Garrard Jr., is not one of them. The…
Father’s Day reflection: Dad’s wallet was a pocket portfolio of a life lived honorably and dutifully
A Father’s Day reflection: Going through Dad’s wallet a couple years after his death was sure to carry me back. How far, I had no idea until I dove in.
‘I see ya brought a helper’
My dad drove a gas truck for the local farmers cooperative when I was a kid. He delivered bulk fuel to farms for tractors and furnace oil to village dwellers for heat. In the summer or on a school break,…
Looking for our fathers
Somewhere I read of a young man who in a fit of rage killed his father. That night when everyone was asleep in the jail, the jailer heard the boy sobbing: “I want my Father. I want my Father.” Almost…