Tag Archives: dad

You Are Never Too Old For Training Wheels

Leave a reply

“Music is moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.”

–Plato

Today’s story is story is contributed by Rebekah.

Training Wheels

Rebekah and her dad

Coaxed out of a deep slumber. A soft trumpet moaning out Reveille. But I am not a soldier in the barracks. I’m seven years old, snuggled in bed. This was Dad’s way of waking us up. And at bedtime, he played Taps.

My dad — the Music Man. He used music to speak, to teach, to show his love. I fondly remember dancing on the kitchen table as a toddler, Dad and I singing along to Bob Marley’s Buffalo Soldier.

He played trumpet as a kid, but eventually moved on to guitar. I still remember the first song he played for us, He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands. Over the years, Dad played many instruments (bass, drums, Native American flute, didgeridoo), but came back to the guitar later in life. READ MORE 

Daddy’s Girl: Honoring My Father’s Legacy

Leave a reply

Today’s story is contributed by Kirsten West Savali.

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”

—Abraham Lincoln

My father, Theodore Joseph “Bubber” West, was blessed with both in abundance. As a business owner, civic leader and city alderman for over seventeen years, he used his influence to help everyone he encountered, never once expecting reciprocity. Daddy never met a stranger. If he had a dollar, he would give you that dollar and apologize that he didn’t have more to share.

Daddy

Kirsten with her Daddy on graduation day.

One of his most endearing characteristics was that he loved to laugh; you could feel the unfettered joy in his laughter. He told the corniest jokes, but you couldn’t help but laugh with him, because it was contagious. Tears would stream from his eyes, rendering it impossible not to join in the moment.

His favorite joke was when people would rush into his office asking for one thing or another; he’d look up at his ceiling and say, “Ssssh… did you hear that?” People would always abruptly stop speaking, follow his gaze, and say, “No, Bubber, I didn’t hear it.” He’d say, “Listen closer; you still don’t hear that?” They would concentrate harder, listening for anything out of the ordinary then say, “No Bubber, I still don’t hear anything.” That twinkle in his eye would get brighter, and he’d say, “I know, it’s been like that all day!” Now, that might not be funny in and of itself, but the fact that he thought it was hilarious made it so… every single time.
READ MORE 

Frozen Moments

Leave a reply

“Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.”

—Corrie Ten Boom

Today’s poem is contributed by Tom Krause.

Frozen Moments

Sam Krause

You were three years old.

Balls were bouncing in the gym.
Children were running, shooting baskets.
Among all the chaos
I saw you grinning at me –
wanting me to watch you.
You waved at me – I waved at you.
You showed me how you could dribble.
The moment froze in my memory.
READ MORE 

What My Father Taught Me About Being A Dad

Leave a reply

“When you teach your son, you teach your son’s son.”

—The Talmud

Today’s story is contributed by Bob Meadows.

I look at my father, I look at my son, and I understand the privilege that was handed to me, and the responsibility that I have accepted.

I had a phenomenal role model for fatherhood. Now I have to be one.
What my father taught me.

Bob’s dad, Bob, and Xavier

I am black. My father is black. My son is black. Most black boys — black children — grow up without their fathers in the home. Most black boys — black children — grow up with mothers who are not married. The married-to-mom black father is the rarest of parents.

My father and mother celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in February. They married, had three children, and stayed married. It was not, as foolish people say, “the times.” Plenty of the couples my parents partied with back in the 60s and 70s split up.
READ MORE 

Million to ONE

Leave a reply

“I’m a father, that’s what matters most. Nothing matters more.”

—Gordon Brown

Todays story is about Hunter Mahan.

Imagine for a moment…
You’re a professional golfer, leading one of the biggest tournaments in the world. Two days down, two to go. You have a 36 hole lead, first place, worth over a million bucks.

Saturday, Day 3. Practice Tee. Warming up.

Hunter Mahan

Hunter Mahan at work.

An unexpected call — your manager runs over, phone in hand. Kandi, your wife, has just gone into labor — three weeks early! What do you do? READ MORE 

Souvenir of a Dad’s Lullaby

1 Reply
A ’20s hit triggers memories of a musical father who sang his 10 children to sleep each night.

Today’s story appeared originally in The Wall Street Journal. Barbara Corcoran spoke with reporter Marc Myers. Barbara and Marc kindly allowed Savvy Dad to share this story.

I know that I seem tough on TV’s “Shark Tank,” often tearing into business pitches, but deep down I’m really a softie. Growing up in Edgewater, N.J. in the mid-1950s with five sisters and four brothers, I loved listening to my father sing in the living room every Wednesday night with his barbershop quartet. The song he sang that touched me most was “Heart of My Heart.”

Barbara Corcoran

Barbara and her Dad

My father loved music more than anything else. A printing press foreman in Newark, N.J., he had taught himself to play guitar, piano and accordion. He also sang tenor with a group of guys he worked with and always sang at family gatherings. When I was about 5 years old, my father began singing “Heart of My Heart” each night to put us all to sleep. But since he couldn’t be in both the boys and girls’ rooms at once, he’d sing live in one and play a tape of him singing the song in the other. The next night he’d switch. READ MORE 

What Do You Mean Girls Can’t Play Ball?

2 Replies

“Status quo, you know, is Latin for ‘the mess we’re in.'”

—Ronald Reagan

Today’s story contributed by Pat McKinzie-Lechault.

“What do you mean girls can’t play ball?”
“My daughter can beat every boy in the gym!”

In a time when girls were relegated to the sideline by a society that said, “Sit, smile, cheer,” Dad told me, “Run, jump, play.” Heck, my dad was ahead of Title IX.

basketball coach

Pat McKinzie-Lechault and her dad, Jim McKinzie.

When other dads insisted their daughters play dolls, Dad nurtured my athleticism. Every time Dad played catch with my brother, he’d throw the ball to me too, so I grew up feeling equal to boys.

Dad even taught me how to hang on to a football so expertly I’d have been a first string wide receiver had I been a boy. While society insisted sports were harmful for females, Dad encouraged me to play ball. During the infancy of Title IX, together my father and I fought a steady battle for girls’ sports.

I grew up in a different time. It was during an era when athletic girls had no role models. When others teased, “Hey, jock,” I cringed, but never lost my self-esteem. READ MORE