Father of the Century

I have a stubborn daughter.  Obviously a challenge at times, but a huge blessing too.  Here's an example:  Once each term all the elementary students here at RVA check out skates and roller blades and head out to the basketball court for about 4 hours of skating-rink style fun.  It's called the Titchie Skate Party and has BBQ, loud music, louder kids and a whole bunch of beginning skaters.  Faith really wants to know how to skate.  She also wants to learn without falling down.  Earlier this year, I spent about four hours walking backward or legs-spread and in various other awkward positions while holding Faith's hands.  But she had a great smile and attitude and I was having a wonderful time.

Toward the end of the skate party, students are allowed to dedicate songs to people.  Most kids dedicate songs to their friends and teachers.  Part way through these dedications,  the DJ, Steve Peifer, interrupted.  Steve is our college guidance counselor and a really great guy and one of his jobs here is to get students into great colleges.  The guy lives and breathes college recommendation letters and, as a result, speaks in hyperbole.  In this case, Steve interrupted the line of dedications and gave his own: "This next song is dedicated to the most patient man alive.  This guy is really incredible.  The Father of the Century, Mr. Frazier!"

I obviously felt pretty flattered (hyperbole and all).  That feeling lasted about two seconds as Faith looked up at me with big excited eyes and said, "Dad!  They're playing this song for GRANDPA!"

My Dad made a few mistakes while raising two kids.*  But he was and still is a very patient man.*  He's an excellent teacher, loving husband, and just about anything else you'd look for in an example of a godly father.  Both my Grandfathers fit this mold as well.  This Father's Day I feel madly humbled by the Dads in my life.  I'm also incredibly grateful for the role models they've been for me.  Happy Father's Day, guys!

*I speak in Hyperbole too.  This statement is what you call a hyperbolic understatement.  I'm most guilty of making these statements on hikes - "There's just a little bushwhacking."  "The car's just at the bottom of this hill."  "The lake's just on the other side of that ridge." "This hill is pretty steep!"  This tendency has caused many (my own patient Father among them) to mutter mean things under their breath*(warning: this footnote is an infinite loop)