A Dad's Love

 

In observance of what would have been my father's 99th birthday, I had the oil changed in my car. It was not really intentional--I had tried to make an appointment for Wednesday or Thursday, but that was not possible.

It is fit and proper, though, that I did it on July 23. My dad was not always a man of many words in expressing his fatherly feelings about us. But the words were demonstrated in other ways--in making sure we were safe and provided for and asking such questions as: "Have you been checking your oil?" "When did you last get an oil change?" He knew that as young adults such things would not be foremost in our minds. And, I expect, he was protecting himself from being called out late at night to rescue us from some car misadventure. (That happened often enough, I'm afraid, even with fresh, topped up oil.)

He was almost obsessive about his own cars. They were always spanking clean and polished--and then put in the garage to keep them that way. A real challenge with five kids! His reputation was widely acknowledged. When we had an auction for my parents' possessions after they died, the Sales Bill highlighted the time that bidding would begin for Dad's Seville and his Sable station wagon. It said in bold print: "Ray took special care of his automobiles!"

I did not inherit those genes--as many of you well know who have seen my cars. Still, from time to time the lessons have stuck. Like now, when I am just about to set out on my 16 hour drive to see my eldest son and his family.

I am all too often lax about keeping up my spiritual discipline, too. It is easier at times to remain engaged in task-oriented activities that I think need my attention and then to decompress with a mystery novel. Even though I know that my spiritual "tires" could deflate and go flat or my engine could seize without oil. So, I need--and expect that we all might need--our friends and loved ones to ask us now and then, "When did you last check your oil?"