Our Dad: A Working Man

On Labor Day,  a working man, our father, walked through heaven's gate.  He was blessed to start his final walk with shoes on his feet, a hat on his head, and keys in his pocket.  Our father was a working man.

My Dad's hands were like rocks showing the  loss of fingers and the scars from decades of toil.   His handshake was firm and his word was true.  Looking at his hands, you just knew without a doubt that our Dad took pride in a job well done.  His hands provided for his family.  Dad earned his working man hands.

Our Dad's  hands had a gentle loving touch.   Mom and dad were married for 55 years and truly were a loving partnership.  He was an involved father who never missed his children's school events.  Dad guided his boys to become the men that they were meant to be and not the men he thought they should be.  He kept his promise to educate his boys.  He would smile and say, "I went to a one room school house and my boys went to college".  He was a loving man.

Proudly serving in the Navy for six years, he then came home and served the community.  Our Dad was a Scout leader.  He enjoyed being long time Harbor High School volunteer.  In his later years, he served with the Lions Club.   He believed that life lived is a life in service to others.

On Labor Day, our working man Dad put down his work.  He lived a life based on hard work, love of family, and service to others.  He was a man of faith who set down his tools and walked the path through heaven's gate. Some day, I will join my father.  I will laugh at his quick wit,  I will see the love in his sparkling eyes.   I will pick up my tools and say, "Dad could you use some help?"   I will see his smile as his proud son works again with his working man Dad.