Monday, August 2, 2021
Connected
Jeannie MacDonald
When I was four, I wandered away from my mother in a department store. The staff was able to quickly reunite us, and I have no memory of the event. The reason I know it happened was because my Dad used the story in a lay sermon at his church shortly after it occurred. He reported that when asked if I was frightened about the temporary separation, I said, “No, because Jesus was with me.”
I have been thinking of that sermon, along with many other Dad moments this month, which marks the ten-year anniversary of his death. Sometimes, it feels like longer since I’ve seen him. Other times, it feels like he might breeze into the room with his usual “Hi Jeannie babe!” greeting. Every day, I miss him, which keeps him close to my heart.
Allister Frederick MacDonald was a wonderful father. I’m not sure how he managed that, since his own father died when he was nine, making Dad the pint-sized “man of the family” overnight. His mother was pregnant with her fourth child, in the depths of the Depression. Imagine the weight my father bore on his little shoulders! A few years later, my grandmother married a mean man. When Dad was 16, his stepfather struck him, and Dad moved to a local boarding house to start his life alone.
How does a person with no role models turn out to be such a good one himself? Dad didn’t just teach his children honesty, loyalty, self-discipline and laughter; he lived those qualities every day. But he threw in a little magic, too: On Christmas Eve, Dad shook sleigh bells in the basement of our house to convince us that Santa was on his way (which conveniently expedited our desire to go to sleep).
In short, Dad gave us the happy childhood he never had.
If Dad said something, he meant it. If he made a promise, he kept it. You had to be careful what you wished for because Dad would figure out a way to make your dreams come true. He treated everyone equally, rich or poor, with humor and respect. No wonder the turnout for his calling hours was so great, people had to step out of line, go home, eat dinner, and return later to pay their respects.
We all felt Dad got a raw deal when he was diagnosed with ALS. But in the end, ALS didn’t take Dad away from us. It gave him back to us. It gave our family time together we wouldn’t have ordinarily taken in the mad rush of daily life. Time to cry together and laugh together. Time to tell Dad that we loved him, to hear him say he loved us. Time to care for his needs, and to thank him.
Now, whenever I feel a little lost in our crazy world, I am not scared. Because I still feel the nearness of God, and of Dad. Both of my fathers, “who art in heaven.”