My Turn: Dad delivered life lessons and pancakes
Our culture does a real number on fathers. TV shows generally portray them as bumbling idiots, incapable of handling any task requiring more reason than brawn, or as laughingstocks that exist solely as comedic foil.
Today’s world demands so much from moms and dads, and they must be on point and ready to deliver for their families.
My own contributions were fortified by the example of my own dad, Bill, who went to his heavenly reward almost nine years ago.
My sister and I were blessed to grow up on Long Island under his watchful gaze. And we learned a lot from him, too.
If you had polled the people in his Westbury neighborhood about their favorite neighbor, Dad would have been at or near the top of the list every time. He looked after the elderly and was quick to share the fruits of his bountiful garden. When he passed away, the neighbors returned his favors to my mother.
His investments in others extended well beyond neighbors. He looked after the downtrodden, the lonely and the anxious. Not just out in the yard, but at the dinner table and in the car.
Those were big lessons about respecting others who didn’t necessarily act like us or look like us, and we learned them by observing our father’s actions and words.
Dad spent plenty of time focused on my youth activities, which often revolved around sports. Not merely a cheerleader, he got out in the backyard after working a demanding job to throw endless rounds of grounders. Early on Sunday mornings, he would have batting practice at a field near home and even clout a few himself near the end of the session.
Other Sundays, Dad would give my mom a break by cooking a special breakfast for each of us featuring giant pancakes that covered the entire bottom of the frying pan. We got a big charge when he flipped them in the air before dousing the finished products with syrup.
Later in life, he would add baking and eventually soups and full meals to his repertoire as he became the primary cook of the household during my parents’ senior years. He doted on my mother to no end.
He was a renaissance man of sorts. Always an outdoorsman, he was a boater who loved fishing and lobstering on the Island’s North Shore, where he worked on a private estate — first as a chauffeur and then as a landscaper. He loved to sketch, especially from photos of his five grandchildren and panels from the Newsday comics.
While Dad’s formal education may have been short-lived, he never hesitated to improve his understanding through study. He loved to read boating or fishing magazines, books on maritime adventures and the natural world, and especially the Bible and other spiritual topics.
Inclined in the same direction, I happily followed his example. Our in-depth conversations on world and national events served as a valuable background resource for my professional knowledge, especially on matters of politics and religious faith.
Maybe the best parenting lesson my dad shared with us was to always be our authentic selves. It was the way he lived every day, whether what came was good or bad.
Contrary to common wisdom, there are lots of good dads out there. If you are fortunate to have one in your life, make sure you let them know what they mean to you.
John Woods
Rockville Centre
