There Is No Wealth But Life

For my father. As a child people often said that I was like my father. And I hated it. My father was very firm and controlling, the sort of person who can get things done. I had equally strong opinions about life and was quite willing to fight for them, so there was significant conflict.

My father worked harder than any other person I have ever known of, let alone met. He comes from a family of workaholics and struggled with that, but he also saw raising children as his job. So his workaholic tendencies simply led him to work constantly both providing for his family materially and taking care of his children.

My mother tells stories of how from the very beginning my father would take the 18 month-old with him in the truck to work while she stayed at home with the new baby. That was a pattern which continued through my entire childhood.

Thank you dad for teaching me how to make bread and shop for groceries (the price per pound is obviously the most important thing!).

Thank you for reading aloud to us multiple times a day every day. And for editing the Little House books when they scared me!

Thank you for trying to help me learn how to spell (though I still have no idea why either you or mom thought that was a good idea considering *your* spelling abilities! But thank you for your time, and for making us learn how to type. Spell check is a wonderful thing!).

Thank you for taking me to so many state and national parks. I would still far rather go to a national park than an amusement park, and I think that is a good thing.

Thank you for teaching me that I could do just about anything modestly in a skirt (not that I ever want to, but should I need to! ;-)).

Thank you for trying to take time with each of your children as individuals, even if I was less than enthusiastic about going out for breakfast with you!

Thank you for teaching me how to change a car tire… over the phone!

Thank you for giving me the confidence that I could work in whatever area I wanted to, even if you imagined that this would only ever happen as me serving my husband.

Thank you for teaching me the Latin names of various plants (though to be honest, the only one I can remember off the top of my head is Tsuga canadensis).

Thank you for trying so very hard to be a better father than your own father. If only each generation could continue to try as hard!

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