Dad’s Gift of Time

In honor of Father’s Day, I have to tell you about my dad Karl.  If you haven’t guessed it by now, I was named after my dad, but also after my grandfather, who was named Carl.  As a sidenote, my nickname Charlie was passed down from my grandfather to my father and finally to me.  I guess you could say that I inherited the nickname.  A few of my people in Wisconsin still refer to me as Charlie, by the way.

But getting back to Dad, he was someone who came from very humble beginnings, persevered through the Depression, and successfully went into the real estate business.  He owned his own business, also became a notary, and sold homeowner’s insurance on the side.

While those accomplishments were wonderful, I think what I am most proud of is that he was never too busy to help anyone.  I’ve mentioned some of this in a previous blog post, but that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Twice a year, once in the spring and once in the fall, he would set aside a full day to take an elderly client to visit her disabled son, who was unable to drive.  In calculating the distance, it amounted to 260 miles in a day.  (For my Wisconsin people, it was Appleton to Shawano to pick her up, back south to Fond du Lac for the visit, and then back up to Shawano to drop her off, and then finally home to Appleton.)  Dad never complained about this.  He was more than happy to do it.

In the summertime he often took time away from his business to mow lawns for other elderly people he had met somewhere along the way.  He also did their taxes at tax time.  Dad picked up my friends and me from school an endless number of times so that we didn’t need to walk home with our heavy band instruments (my French horn, for example) or walk home in a storm.

One of the most touching things he did was visit Leona, the mentally challenged daughter of a lady whose house he had sold.  After Leona’s mother died, Dad visited Leona regularly – probably three or four times a year for several years.  She lived in a place for people with disabilities and had very few visitors.  After each visit, which usually included a gift that Mom had purchased for Leona, Mom and Dad would receive a thank-you note that read the same way each time:  “Thank you for the gift.  Love, Leona.”

Dad is basking in heaven these days.  He left a wonderful legacy that I’ll continue to share with our family for many years to come.  I was definitely privileged to have had the father I had.

Happy Father’s Day to the men out there!  Hope your special day is wonderful.  Happy Father’s Day to Tom and a premature one to David, our soon-to-be dad!