Roots 3

My dad is unforgettable. He is just himself. He tells it like it is with plenty of spice, and yet, he has the heart of a poet.
Don't get me wrong, he did try to hit a squirrel with a 9-foot pole two summers ago because of his loathing of the city dwellers, but I've seen him tear up when we were visiting my then 90+-year-old grandmother. He saw the woman he used to know (his ex-mother-in-law) who once had all the energy and spunk in the world using a walker and needing help to get to the bathroom.
He told me a story of when he was a young man working in a nursing home. There was a grouchy old man who didn't want anybody else to move him except Dad and no wonder. Dad would quickly pick him up and matter-of-factly fold his legs in a sitting position before lowering him in his wheelchair. The poor old man hurt when he was handled without the firm, quick movements that Dad made.
There was another time he was working in a parking garage in Denver. There was a stray dog who got himself stuck in the ticket exit area of the garage. The dog was scared, and, of course, put up a fight when Dad tried to get him out of the situation. So Dad grabbed him with one arm and and grabbed his snout with the other hand so the dog wouldn't bite. As he was taking the dog out of the parking garage a woman stopped her car and stared at him appalled at his treatment of the dog. The woman just didn't know the whole story, that's all.
When Dad was a boy he worked in the sugar beet fields with his father and brothers. They all worked very hard. He told me that he won't eat green sweet peppers to this day because one hot summer day he was so hungry while working in the field, he ate green peppers until he was sick. He told me he used to walk along the river and look for a stone that was perfectly round, but he never found one.
He used to take my little sister and me to visit my great grandfather, my grandmother, and other members of his family before and after he and my mom were divorced. All of his life he has showed me how to respect and honor older people. That is a gift.
I appreciate the way Dad has always respected me as an adult even when I was a stupid 21-year-old. (I was an adult, I just wasn't acting like it.)
Dad curses like a sailor, still flies into a rage when he can't find something he is looking for, but he is the most genuine Christian I know. There is nothing religious about his love for Jesus.
If you have ever listened to the lyrics to "Oh How He Loves Us" (Jesus Culture edition), there is a phrase that says, "So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss; And my heart turns violently inside of my chest; I don't have time to maintain these regrets; when I think about the way; He loves us, O, how He loves us!" The song is talking about the heart of the Father and of Jesus for us. One time I was listening to the song and the phrase "sloppy wet kiss" reminded me of how obnoxious Dad's kisses on our cheeks were when we visited him. He gave us sloppy wet kisses to show how much he loved us. That was also a gift because it also showed me how affectionate God's love is for me. I got a 2-for-1 revelation on the love of a (F)father that day.
I love talking about the Word of God with Dad. I'm pretty sure I got my idealist and poetic bent from him. He is real and he is just himself.