June 14, 2012

What a Father's Love Is Like


The summer I was 17, I traveled west with a friend.  Three days after the tassels were flipped from one side to the other and hats were tossed into the air, I packed up and headed out west across country for an entire summer.

The very first Sunday, Father's Day, I was calling home collect to wish my dad a 'Happy Father's Day.'  He wasn't home.  The operator let me leave a message for free.  It was Father's Day, afterall.


Thanks to modern technology, more than 15 years later, on a different summer day, I called his cell phone.  He was at work, but answered immediately.


We laughed and joked around for a good ten minutes.  When I asked him how his day was going, he told me.  Then it occured to me, and I gingerly asked, "Dad, where are you?"

He easily replied, "Oh, I'm up on this building, working."

I thought I had heard him wrong.  I asked him slowly, "What?"

"I'm up on this beam, working."


My heart beat wildly.  I squealched my alram, and tried to even my voice to sound respectful as I asked, "What are you doing answering the phone?"

"Well, because you called," he answered.

A father's love.
~ Dorie

2 comments:

  1. How sweet. And scary!
    The irises are so beautiful. You got some lovely shots.

    ReplyDelete

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