When I run into adults and peers from my childhood and they learn that Daddy passed away earlier this month, they always offer their condolences and will then have a memory tied to things I wasn’t allowed to do.
You see my Dad was strict on Michael and me. While growing up Saturday night was not date night or party night; it was the night before the Lord’s Day. We were expected to pick out our church clothes, bathe, etc. and make preparation for Sunday. Oh and don’t get me started on Sundays! We were NEVER late for church, not a Sunday morning, Sunday night or Wednesday night. You see, my stern father believed if we could be on time for school and work, we should not be late to meet with the Lord. We left early for services, in case of traffic, bad weather, etc., and had time to re-focus our minds to worship, in the 15 minutes we had to sit on the pew until services began!
There were a ton of clothes I loved and would have looked so cute in . . . that I was not permitted to purchase because they were too low, too high, too tight, too loose, too thin, or too grown up. This dictatorship didn’t even stop when I had a job and was earning my own money to buy clothes, he still ruled my wardrobe! Did I mention that I had to wear dresses to school, seriously. I could only wear jeans twice a week to school. I was expected to look like a ‘lady’. And pants/jeans/shorts were never allowed to be worn at church. Dresses Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night! I have an aversion to hose to this day!
I still grew into a somewhat normal teen. When I was 14 I loved the Dukes of Hazard. Correction, I thought John Schneider was hot! So like any teen I had posters of him on my wall. In one poster his shirt was unbuttoned. Dad gave me two options, 1) take the poster down or 2) put a shirt on him. Well that poster remained on my wall until I left for college with the construction paper t-shirt I made for it.
Oh, oh, and did I mention we had chores!!!! We were expected to clean bathrooms, and prepare meals, and do the dishes and vacuum, not to mention rake the shag carpet! Even when I was in High School taking advanced classes and working two jobs, I still had to do my chores! Ridiculous!
The insanity didn’t stop with my clothes, chores or friends; it even intruded into what movies I could watch. You see the PG-13 rating came out when I was 16, no problem right, I was over 13. My Dad focused on that PG stood for ‘Parental Guidance’ which was him. And to Dad PG-13 was really a new name for R rated movies, so that movie makers could now make even raunchier films and call them ‘R’ rated. Try being 16 and telling your ‘peeps’ you can only see PG movies!
There were plenty of friend’s parties I was not allowed to attend because they weren’t Christians or Dad didn’t know their parents. There were boys I really liked but wasn’t able to go out with because they were not members of the Broken Arrow Church of Christ. There were boys who were Christians that I wasn’t allowed to go out with because they were too old, too mature, or they had already had a serious relation. . . ?
But curfew, believe it or not I never had a set curfew. My curfew varied by the activity I was participating in, for example: When I went on my first date with the preacher’s son, David Bates, we went to dinner and a movie. Dad allowed 10 minutes for us to drive to dinner, :30 minutes for dinner, another :10 to drive to the theater, :90 minutes for the movie and :15 minutes to drive home. Oh but don’t think he was heartless, he padded the time with an extra :10 minutes in case traffic was heavy etc., and set my curfew that evening at 10:20 PM. When we ran out of gas, really we did, David’s sister brought us a gas can. I still made it home by 10:25 PM but I was grounded for a week.
Now when I managed to arrive home from a date on time, Dad would always flick the porch light, so I would know that the :05 minute time had begun. If I did not make it back into the house within five minutes of when he flicked the lights, he would come out to the car to get me. What a guy!!! I lost a lot of second dates because of that rule!
When it was time to head off to college, mind you I was to pay for my own education; you know to teach me responsibility blah, blah, blah. Dad explained I could attend Oklahoma Christian or Oklahoma Christian, so I went to Oklahoma Christian.
I’m sure as any of you who know me well, know that such tyranny led me to be a rebellious college student who went crazy out in the real world. NOT! All of that strict parenting led me to be a somewhat normal individual, who was pure when I married. I felt no need to be a Bridezilla full of ‘I wants’. I have been successful at any job I have held. I am always punctual.
So why, when all wisdom, and lots of relatives said this kind of strict parenting would back fire, did Michael and I turn out so normal? Ok, well I turned out normal, Michael is still well, Michael (sibling rivalries run deep :)).
I knew every day of my life that my Dad loved me, he wanted the best for me, and he took the time to explain modesty, greed, lust, work ethic with Biblical examples. While working on cars in the driveway one day, my Father explained the intricate workings of a boy’s brain, when exposed to any female stimulus. . . .ICK! No girl wants to have that conversation with her Dad!! But I will never forget, and I must say, he was right!
He would take the time to slip me a note or cartoon, letting me know how proud he was of me. From childhood to the day of his death I never doubted that Dad loved me and was proud of me. Oh he wasn’t perfect and neither am I. But Dad would defend me to the ends of the Earth if anyone else pointed out my imperfections. But in our private conversations he would correct me and straighten me out. As he became older and those roles of parent/child reverse I too would not allow a negative word to be said about my father, but in our private moments I would return the guidance he had given me, and encourage him to do better.
I will miss him every day of my life; I will miss his crooked teeth smile, his laughter, the ways his eyes squinted up when he belly laughed. I will miss the verbal banter we would exchange as adults. But when my days are gone, I only hope my children can write a eulogy to the ‘strictest mom’ with as much affection and fondness as I penned these words today.
You see my Dad was strict on Michael and me. While growing up Saturday night was not date night or party night; it was the night before the Lord’s Day. We were expected to pick out our church clothes, bathe, etc. and make preparation for Sunday. Oh and don’t get me started on Sundays! We were NEVER late for church, not a Sunday morning, Sunday night or Wednesday night. You see, my stern father believed if we could be on time for school and work, we should not be late to meet with the Lord. We left early for services, in case of traffic, bad weather, etc., and had time to re-focus our minds to worship, in the 15 minutes we had to sit on the pew until services began!
There were a ton of clothes I loved and would have looked so cute in . . . that I was not permitted to purchase because they were too low, too high, too tight, too loose, too thin, or too grown up. This dictatorship didn’t even stop when I had a job and was earning my own money to buy clothes, he still ruled my wardrobe! Did I mention that I had to wear dresses to school, seriously. I could only wear jeans twice a week to school. I was expected to look like a ‘lady’. And pants/jeans/shorts were never allowed to be worn at church. Dresses Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night! I have an aversion to hose to this day!
I still grew into a somewhat normal teen. When I was 14 I loved the Dukes of Hazard. Correction, I thought John Schneider was hot! So like any teen I had posters of him on my wall. In one poster his shirt was unbuttoned. Dad gave me two options, 1) take the poster down or 2) put a shirt on him. Well that poster remained on my wall until I left for college with the construction paper t-shirt I made for it.
Oh, oh, and did I mention we had chores!!!! We were expected to clean bathrooms, and prepare meals, and do the dishes and vacuum, not to mention rake the shag carpet! Even when I was in High School taking advanced classes and working two jobs, I still had to do my chores! Ridiculous!
The insanity didn’t stop with my clothes, chores or friends; it even intruded into what movies I could watch. You see the PG-13 rating came out when I was 16, no problem right, I was over 13. My Dad focused on that PG stood for ‘Parental Guidance’ which was him. And to Dad PG-13 was really a new name for R rated movies, so that movie makers could now make even raunchier films and call them ‘R’ rated. Try being 16 and telling your ‘peeps’ you can only see PG movies!
There were plenty of friend’s parties I was not allowed to attend because they weren’t Christians or Dad didn’t know their parents. There were boys I really liked but wasn’t able to go out with because they were not members of the Broken Arrow Church of Christ. There were boys who were Christians that I wasn’t allowed to go out with because they were too old, too mature, or they had already had a serious relation. . . ?
But curfew, believe it or not I never had a set curfew. My curfew varied by the activity I was participating in, for example: When I went on my first date with the preacher’s son, David Bates, we went to dinner and a movie. Dad allowed 10 minutes for us to drive to dinner, :30 minutes for dinner, another :10 to drive to the theater, :90 minutes for the movie and :15 minutes to drive home. Oh but don’t think he was heartless, he padded the time with an extra :10 minutes in case traffic was heavy etc., and set my curfew that evening at 10:20 PM. When we ran out of gas, really we did, David’s sister brought us a gas can. I still made it home by 10:25 PM but I was grounded for a week.
Now when I managed to arrive home from a date on time, Dad would always flick the porch light, so I would know that the :05 minute time had begun. If I did not make it back into the house within five minutes of when he flicked the lights, he would come out to the car to get me. What a guy!!! I lost a lot of second dates because of that rule!
When it was time to head off to college, mind you I was to pay for my own education; you know to teach me responsibility blah, blah, blah. Dad explained I could attend Oklahoma Christian or Oklahoma Christian, so I went to Oklahoma Christian.
I’m sure as any of you who know me well, know that such tyranny led me to be a rebellious college student who went crazy out in the real world. NOT! All of that strict parenting led me to be a somewhat normal individual, who was pure when I married. I felt no need to be a Bridezilla full of ‘I wants’. I have been successful at any job I have held. I am always punctual.
So why, when all wisdom, and lots of relatives said this kind of strict parenting would back fire, did Michael and I turn out so normal? Ok, well I turned out normal, Michael is still well, Michael (sibling rivalries run deep :)).
I knew every day of my life that my Dad loved me, he wanted the best for me, and he took the time to explain modesty, greed, lust, work ethic with Biblical examples. While working on cars in the driveway one day, my Father explained the intricate workings of a boy’s brain, when exposed to any female stimulus. . . .ICK! No girl wants to have that conversation with her Dad!! But I will never forget, and I must say, he was right!
He would take the time to slip me a note or cartoon, letting me know how proud he was of me. From childhood to the day of his death I never doubted that Dad loved me and was proud of me. Oh he wasn’t perfect and neither am I. But Dad would defend me to the ends of the Earth if anyone else pointed out my imperfections. But in our private conversations he would correct me and straighten me out. As he became older and those roles of parent/child reverse I too would not allow a negative word to be said about my father, but in our private moments I would return the guidance he had given me, and encourage him to do better.
I will miss him every day of my life; I will miss his crooked teeth smile, his laughter, the ways his eyes squinted up when he belly laughed. I will miss the verbal banter we would exchange as adults. But when my days are gone, I only hope my children can write a eulogy to the ‘strictest mom’ with as much affection and fondness as I penned these words today.
2 comments:
What an awesome tribute to your daddy, Lisa. It brought tears to my eyes. And, even though I don't know you well at all, just what little I have ever observed, the lessons were well learned. Your children will surely rise up and call you blessed. Thanks for sharing such a personal story. All youbg parents would do well to read it. In Christ, Frances Hadley
Beautiful!! Can't wait to meet you and your family on the 8th.
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