Spain Dad, a baby blog

My dad turned 56 yesterday. Happy Birthday Dad!

Unfortunately I didn’t buy him a gift. Since I live in Spain, and he lives in the U.S., there was no chance of running to the store last minute and pretending I had something for him all along…not that I’ve ever done anything like that before.

However, you’ll never guess what I did. You’ll never guess. I ACTUALLY spent some time thinking about why I love him so much. And because my line of thought these days is “baby, baby, baby,” I thought about what my dad has taught me about being a dad that I would like to pass on to our daughter.

For starters, my dad is a teacher. Actually, no, he’s not JUST a teacher, he’s a GOOD teacher. He’s a CRAZY teacher. And by extension, he’s a learner.

My dad is also a woodworker. He likes to build things. Many years ago he added on a woodworking shop to our house. He spends many afternoons sawing things, sanding them down, and gluing them together.

My dad is also a Christian. One of things about my dad’s faith is that he thinks it’s important to use the things he’s good at to help other people. He finds more enjoyment in helping other people than anything else. He’s always fixing someone’s roof or changing a window or giving someone DIY advice.

My dad challenged me from the very beginning to be a learner, to be creative and build things, and to use whatever I do to serve others.

You can see this written all over the things we did together…

• We built a homemade telegraph and learned basic Morse code.
• We constructed our own model airplane and took flying lessons.
• We sketched out plans and built a Transformer out of wood. Ours was a F-15 Fighter Jet.
• We built a toy truck out of wood, complete with front and rear-wheel suspension and working headlights.
• We built a tree house, but we didn’t stop there. We also put in a zip line.
• When I was learning how to play soccer, my dad asked the elementary school where he works if we could borrow one of the soccer goals for the summer. He asked our neighbor friend if he could borrow his hay wagon to get the soccer goal from the school in town to our anchorage out in the country.
• When I began showing an interest in computers, he would on occasion bring his “portable” Mac home from school, so I could learn a simple programming language called HyperCard (may it rest in peace). Actually, my first publishing credit was in an online journal called something like The Young HyperCard Programmers Club of America.
• When I was six, my parents took me to Mississippi for a summer to work with a non-profit group called Mendenhall Ministries.
• When I was nine, my parents brought me along to Detroit for a week of service in the inner city called SERVE. (At that point I was the youngest person ever to join one of these projects.)
• When I was in junior high, my dad worked for a summer for Habitat for Humanity. He bribed me at four dollars an hour to help him work on these Habitat houses. He said he couldn’t do it without me. In the meantime, he showed me how he had found a way to combine his love for building and his love for serving others.

Love you Dad!