I have an ever increasing love and appreciation for my dad. I'm so excited that this event happened right before a day when I can honor him by telling others about who he is. This time his actions illuminate his very core.
Lawn Girl discovered the thrill of starting a cold lawnmower engine. It was empowering to change the oil and spark plugs. Had Facebook existed the first time I was able to cut a perfectly straight line with my weed eater, I'd have been incredibly obnoxious and posted multiple pictures.
And deeply disappointed if people did not pump me full of positive comments and likes.
My neighbors can attest that I have a temper and often spew awful phrases when my machines don't cooperate. I did NOT learn that from my dad. He is steadfast, methodical, and ever the gentleman.
A few weeks ago I decided that I really needed an old school edger--the one with three wheels. I didn't plan on using it every week. Just a couple of times each season to get a nice, clean edge. I've got Bermuda grass and it just eats up weed eater line when the trench isn't quite deep enough. I was shocked that those edgers are far more expensive than a lawnmower. I decided to buy one off of Craig's List. I wanted to pay 50 bucks. I found one within days. Upon pick up, the man, with one decisive pull started it right up. It worked.
Until I tried to start it a week later. I remembered that at the beginning of each season, Dad would always change the spark plug and the air filter. I also had a can of something to spray in the carburetor if the engine still wouldn't start. I followed his example. I even watched some YouTube videos on starting an old pull-cord edger. Even after what had been hours of time, I still couldn't get that blasted edger started. I was hoping one of my neighbors would hear me grumbling and rescue me.
Didn't happen.
Mom and Dad were coming over the following Monday. Dad made a special call and said, "Lori, I'll work on your new edger and see if I can get it started for you." I knew also that he'd edge my yard, even if I insisted that I'd do it later.
That morning he called and said, "Lori, I decided to go ahead and bring my edger so that if I can't get yours started, I can still get a nice edge for your yard." He thinks of everything.
My schedule was a little busy that morning and so I told him to be sure and wait for me to work on my edger. I learned the hard way as a spoiled, entitled teenage girl that there are some skills my Dad was offering to teach me that I would need to know someday. I always ask to watch what he's doing now and I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. Even if I was never planning on changing a tire or a battery, or jump starting a car, I would do it more times than I can count since I left home. Most of those times I was being directed via phone by Dad. There was even that time when he was in The Hague and I was in McMinnville, Oregon on a payphone!
Without fanfare or any fuss, Dad, in his work Stetson, belted khaki pants, plaid short sleeved shirt, and work boots, edged my grass. His edger is probably about a year old, if that. It has a brand new blade. It also has one of those easy pull cords. One pull and you're off! He used the weedeater next and then edged one more time for a pristine finish. Did I mention that my yard is about a third of an acre? Big for my area.
He'd worked on my edger before I got home. Once home I helped him sweep up and do the final touches.
As Mom and Dad were leaving, this is what he said, "Lori, I decided to trade edgers with you. I think you'll like mine a lot better. I've got several of this old kind in the barn from ones Scott has given me over the years. (My brother ran a lawn service.) I can use those for spare parts when I need them."
And that's exactly what my sacrificially generous father will do. He'll use my second hand Craftsman edger and the frustrations that may accompany it. Meanwhile, I'll be enjoying the top of the line edger he left in my shed.
Each time I relive that story I think of Christ. It's about as literal a retelling of the Gospel there is in my life. Like Christ, Dad took my junk and gave me the best he had to offer. All I had to do was accept the gift. And why? Because he loves me. How could I respond with anything else but love and gratitude?
How grateful I am for a dad who loves me in tangible ways that point me straight towards my Heavenly Father.
I continually learn what it means to be generous in spirit and resources from Dad. I also know that Dad will finish every task he is asked to do. His yes means yes. His no means no. As a parent, I now appreciate that the no was for my benefit, not my demise. I also know that when he signed me and Carol up for those auto-mechanic for girls classes at the junior college, we BOTH should have gone. (I won't be so nice to Annie Beth. She'll hate me until she breaks down on the highway. She'll have a cell phone, though...oh, the things these kids don't appreciate. wink)
Dad has modeled for me what kind of grandparent I want to be. I never imagined that Dad could put together a great Barbie outfit and know what to say when told by another Barbie that his Barbie was "the bomb". He delights in every opportunity to love and be loved by his beloved.
Most of all, I know that my dad loves me and would give up his last breath if it meant mine would continue. It's what Christ did and continues to do through the life message of my dad.
John 15:13
The Message (MSG)
This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends.
What a privilege that I get to call Rex Hudgins, "Dad".
I love you, Dad! Happy Father's Day!!!
