Earlier this week marked what would have been my father's 89th birthday. Unfortunately, he died a few months ago after a long and well-lived life. We will celebrate it this weekend with lemon meringue pie.
As I think about celebrating his life, I consider what makes a life well lived. If it is amassing a large fortune, he missed that mark. My inheritance literally consists of two boat propellers, a bass fishing trophy, one of his fishing shirts, an unnamed item my cousin is holding for me that is too large to ship, and a dove stool. If you don't know what a dove stool is, please let me know. Not so that I can enlighten you but so I can revel in my superior education -- it is not often I get a chance to do that. No, Daddy never made a fortune. But, he made a living and supported his family. We didn't live lavishly but we never went without any of the necessities.
If it is devoting yourself to a religious or charitable cause, he missed that mark as well. Don't get me wrong, he attended and supported a church but he certainly didn't preach religion to anyone. And I never knew him to fund raise or support a charity. What I did know him to do was to be generous as he went about the business of living. He gave away enough fish, quail and vegetables to to feed the whole county. And he always gave a hand up to people. Whether it was teaching someone to hunt or fish or finding work for someone to do so they could earn a few dollars to tide them over a rough spot, you could always count on Daddy to be generous with his time and resources.
If it is spending your time thinking deep thoughts and marking important moments, he missed that mark too. Instead, he appreciated the small moments. He could turn a day spent traveling to the dock, the tackle shop, the hardware store and the oyster bar into a grand adventure. My mother believes that people expect too much happiness -- she says you are lucky if you get ten minutes a day. More than once Daddy told me he had used up a year's worth of happiness in one day. And he didn't do it with big occasions but rather by being present and thoroughly enjoying the small ones.
If it is by knowing important people, I could make the argument that he hit this mark. However, the argument would be dependent upon the fact that Daddy didn't judge people's importance by the same scale most of us use. He didn't care about your money, political connections or education. He cared about what he knew about your character through his own personal dealings with you. He had more respect for some of the homeless people he knew in town than for some of the local politicians. And regardless of how much he respected you or judged you as important, he wasn't going to hold dinner for you so you had best be on time.
No, I think it was a well-lived life because he truly relished living it. He took chances; cared deeply about friends, family and bird dogs (not necessarily in that order); was passionate about fishing and hunting and shared those passions with others; he laughed deeply and long when something amused him which was often. Even in despair, he set the bar high. He buried two children and his adored sister but when life knocked him down, he never failed to get back up. It was a well-lived life because it left a blueprint for us to follow in the wake of his death.
We will celebrate it this weekend. There will be laughter, tears and pie. Just as Daddy would have wanted.
