Grief. Joy. I’m dancing between the two today as I celebrate my father, this beautiful man and all that he taught me.
He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
10 Tender Lessons From My Dad
# 1 INVEST in the Best
It was my father who gave me an appreciation for food—good food. We never shopped for the best deal. My dad showed me where to shop for the best cut of meat, the best produce, the best baked goods. Grocery shopping was an all day affair. We delighted in the sight of plump juicy tomatoes or the aroma of a warm cinnamon roll. I loved every minute of the grocery shopping adventure. Still do.
# 2 Eat Chocolate for Breakfast
My dad loved his sweets. Jet Donuts. Parkedge Bakery. He was always bringing something home in a great big white box that beckoned us from our sleepy nests. Yes, chocolate for breakfast. Sometimes nourishment isn’t about nutrition at all.
# 3 Stop to Chat. Often. With Strangers
Maybe that’s why I have so much fun with “social” media! My father was a talker. Oh my, how he could talk. You would never send my dad to the grocery store if you needed something quick. He made many friends at the market. My dad taught me the value of taking time every day to check in with someone and have a little chat.
# 4 CELEBRATE the Small Things
For my dad, every meal was a party. He loved to break bread with friends and family. I can still hear those words, “This is a great party, isn’t it Sue Ann?” I think we can bring the same spirit of celebration to ALL that we do. But I like to begin with the plate.
# 5 DIEts Don’t Work
I remember the time my dad’s doctor told him he needed to lose a few pounds and gave him a prescription for diet pills. He dutifully filled the prescription. He dutifully took those pills for a few weeks. One day I noticed he wasn’t taking them anymore. I asked, “Dad, why aren’t you taking your diet pills?” “Damn things curb my appetite,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.
# 6 Make Time For Your Art
My father was a technical illustrator and design draftsman by trade but he was also a wonderful watercolor artist. I was enamored with his painting life and tried to emulate both his handwriting and his art. I didn’t inherit his talent but I am grateful for the gift he gave me to see things with an artFUL eye. Even at the wheel of his beloved ’57 Plymouth, when my father saw something he wanted to paint, he would simply pull over to the side of the road and use his saliva to wet the watercolors that he readily retrieved from his glove compartment. He called those precious little paintings “spit” drawings. I still chuckle at that. My dad always made time for his art.
# 7 Unconditional Love is the Greatest Gift You Can Bestow Upon a Loved One
(It is also the greatest gift you can bestow upon yourself.)
Wikipedia defines generosity as the habit of giving freely without expecting anything in return. That was my dad. Growing up in Buffalo, New York was challenging at times. Lake effect snow covered the city with far more than a “blanket.” I worked in a leather goods store in the Boulevard Mall during my high school years. When I came out of the store on a snowy evening, my windshield was clean and my car was warm and ready to go. Yes, “Sam Elf” had been there. He always made sure his daughters were safe. And loved. Imagine what our lives would be like if we cared for and loved ourselves that fully.
# 8 Eat. Play. Sleep.
My dad loved to eat. (You’ve probably gathered that!) He worked hard but he always found time to play. And, he LOVED to take naps. He knew all about the value of restorative sleep long before we had studies to support it. It has taken me a LONG time to learn this lesson, particularly the “play” piece. I’m a lifelong learner.
#9 It’s Never Too Late to Reinvent Yourself
Yes, my dad reinvented himself in his seventies. He and a couple of his colleagues painted together once a week to practice their art and critique their work. They called themselves “We Three” and organized exhibits to share their watercolor paintings. He was so happy when someone showed an interest in his painting. Each painting had a story. My dad LOVED a good story.
# 10 Leave a Luscious Legacy
I don’t know if we have the capacity to fully understand and appreciate the gifts our parents bestow upon us when we are young and innocent, or just too busy living our lives to really notice. But I have found that the “practice of remembering” and steeping myself in gratitude keeps me nourished and provides me with both grace and courage as I witness my dad’s end-of-life process. It also provides me with a deep desire to leave behind a luscious legacy of my own.
How about YOU? Do you have a luscious legacy to share?
45 thoughts on “10 Tender Lessons From My Dad”
Not many people get it right. Sounds like your dad did. Blessed you for the privilege of having him in your life.
beautiful. touching. inspirational.
thanks to you and your wonderful dad.
What a lovely teacher, your dad. Beautiful lessons, reminders, for all of us. #7, Unconditional Love, was bestowed upon me by my maternal grandmother, Millie. I miss her so. Thank you, Sue Ann, for another inspiring post. xo
Just LOVING this distillation of the Jewels your father gifted you with. Yes, and it IS about the modeling, isn’t it? It resonates deep and long… life long for us! I LOVE that his art was so integrated into his life. His watercolors in the old Plymouth’s glovey, using spit, the essence of his own brilliant body stuff to paint what caught his eye.
What I receive from this is how deeply he stayed true to and nourished his wild creative genius… beholden to no other, it found its way. Through food. The ART of the whole story. I LOVE that he took a whole day to engage and make it a discovery process. I can feel an ache deep in my body… a yearning for this form of deep soulful engagement with life and other.
I had not heard the story of the “We Three” group. Oh my WOMAN… you know how that would hold meaning for me. Yes. I will NEVER stop!
No wonder you LOVE HIM SO! and tend to his altar with such devotion and dedication.
One thing… I want to say, you definitely have his talent. Look forward to more painting with YOU in the future.! xoxo
There is so much love and admiration beaming from this post. I feel inspired to make a similar list to and about my dad (and one about my mom).
Magical words, vibes and what empowering lessons to learn. Each one as unique as it could be however SO fundamental in our existence. Honored that you shared this part of YOU with all of us.
You inherited his art, you just use words instead of paints to make your pictures. He is perhaps your strongest life long angel. He certainly showed and shared with you the possibilities of a life well lived.
Amazing – your dad is a wise man! 🙂 Thanks for sharing his messages with us! xo
Like you, I inherited a sweet tooth from a parent, in my case my Mom. At 93 she still lights up for a sweet treat. There are jelly beans and chocolate marshmallow puffs in our blood! Loved this post, Sue Ann. Blessing on you and your Dad.
Hi Sue Ann, it was a pleasure to read your post and I’m glad you got to spend some time with him. Your dad was unique, a lot like my brother, Dom. They inspired us all, a quality we don’t fully appreciate until they are gone.
What a gorgeous post about your very inspiring dad. I love the line about the pills curbing his appetite, but the entire list is very inspiring and magical. What a great man—and his daughter definitely follows suit. ; )
This is such a moving post, and a perfect inspiration for a live well-lived. Your dad’s spirit shines very clearly through you! Here’s to celebrating these beautiful ideals into action, they fill me with joy!
Wow! Beautiful post! Your dad sounds very similar to mine, actually. I could relate to so much of what you wrote. Thanks for sharing the lessons.
So beautiful and inspiring, Sue Ann! You made me feel like I know your dad. Or at least that I *want* to know him. 🙂
Thank you for sharing!
Sue Ann, this post could be a primer for anyone anticipating parenthood, or in the midst of it. What wonderful gifts your father gave you… wrapped in “Sam-ness…”
Poignant. Powerful. Completely nourishing. Thank you.
This is wonderful! “Sam” is friend of mine and let me share your great story. Causes me to reflect. I’m in my 70’s now and hope that I am leaving behind something close enough to what your dad left you. Although I certainly don’t have the talents your dad had, I hope my children and grandchildren will have at least some great memories that they can associate with me. . . . . . .
A beautiful and generous tribute to a man who deserves no less. Loving him through to the other side is your gift back to him. xo
Wow, what a beautiful piece of writing and
Thank you for sharing your Dad with us.
Thank YOU for stopping by and reading this piece.
So beautiful, I have tears in my eyes as I read about each wonderful facet of your father. I am grateful he has passed his wisdom to you, which you share to the world with such generosity!!
Ahhhhh… Sam! How you dance in me through the love and adoration of your magnificent daughter, Sue Ann Gleason! How I love her! and thus, you indeed did a job well done! Thank you! Happy Father’s Day!
Thank you for the reminders of what it takes to build a good life. 😉
Fromt his list, I can tell 2 things: 1.) why you’re such a wonderful person and 2.) how well I’d get along with your dad. What a beautiful tribute to a remarkable man.
I enjoyed reading this story of your father’s influence. And what a joy it is to experience these lessons through your voice…
How tender words you write Sue Ann! Here I am sitting completely teary-eyed thinking of my own dad who would have been 94 June 12th. I think he would have loved to meet your dad 🙂 They sound so similar in many ways and even slightly look alike based on the lovely picture you posted of your dad.
Much love to you!
Carina
Thank you for stopping by Carina and Nanette. I was about to write a new post on my dad when I gave myself permission to dig into the archives because of all that I’ve written about this beautiful man, this post encapsulates his essence. Thank you for helping me keep the good days alive as we adjust ourselves around (and love) the man he has become.
I remember reading this before and now, I fell in love with him and you all over again. I don’t see my other comment here. Hmm… perhaps it was waiting to be seen now… when I can send you deep love and hold you tenderly through this time with your Dad.
The legacy of my father? My Dad, was an extraordinary man. I knew it then, and I know it now. But the older I get, the more I appreciate the things he did for me.
Like, I remember when he was dying, I asked him if he’d like me to make him some breakfast. He said “sure” “Would you like some Cream of Wheat? I asked him thinking it was his favorite cereal. “Oh, no” he said. “I don’t like Cream of Wheat” I turned and looked at him. His brain tumor didn’t allow him to screen his thoughts too well. “I thought you loved Cream of Wheat?” I said with a confused kind of question “No, I don’t” he said. “Then why did you stand there and make it every week-end morning for me and stir that pot for a half an hour making it for our breakfast while I was growing up?” I asked. “Because you would talk to me.” he responded.
I was dumbfounded. I remembered this well. I’d sit at the kitchen table waiting for it to be cooked…over a half an hour. I loved cream of wheat. I smiled and opened. This is how he made sure to connect with me and how he knew what was going on in his child’s life. (And btw, it only takes 10 minutes to make cream of wheat).
And that was my Dad.
Oh the power and beauty of that one-of-a-kind relationship. May you hold these legacies and sweet memories in your heart as much as they need to be … and know, you are in my thoughts and prayers. xox
PS I can see the alikeness in your photos above. Made me smile. 🙂 BIg hug my friend.
Such a wonderful, deeply moving story, Sue Ann. You are a blessed woman and your Dad is a very lucky man. He knows the secret to a good life. We should all strive to live our lives the way he has lived his. Thank you for sharing a part of your Dad with the rest of us.
So beautiful. I love your stories, Sue Ann. Much love to your dad. xo
Dear Sue Ann
That is so beautiful! The older i get i know what is important in life. Yes, i loved my Dad heaps too! He always had a smile and a laugh for everyone , even when he was in such pain. He had such a big heart and was so generous with his love.
Love to you and your family.
Deb
I have never seen this and I’m so glad I’m seeing it now. ” Sometimes nourishment isn’t about nutrition at all.” This is a cornerstone to who you are. What a gift from your father. I bought a basket this week I’d been looking at for a long time. It wasn’t on sale, I hadn’t “saved up.” I just gave it to myself for our trip. I knew I’d feel so happy carrying picnics in something so lovely. The layer of nourishment for me begins with how food travels. I bought what felt like “the best” to me and I will feel connected to you this week as I use it.
My daughter ran errands with me this week and she lamented, “You know EVERYONE!” I was slowing her down with my chatting. I love to see you appreciating this about your father here – the life he LIVED, not the life he told you to live. My daughter is more introverted than I am, but she loves me for who I am…a chatter.
I think you KNOW how much I can relate to celebrating the small things. It’s probably why I love you so dearly. It’s so apparent you begin at the details and the party grows from there 🙂
I will never drive down the road with a mouth full of saliva the same way again. Color is so inspiring! And ready to let my creativity LOOOOOSE! Great story.
I love to hear stories about people in the second half of their life (or in their 3rd act!) beginning something, like your dad did with his “We Three” art shows. I have things on my list that are still only baby ideas and I just know I still can do them. Your dad is an inspiration that can still happen for me.
This is a wonderful thing to carry with you as you travel.
Lovely homage to your father, Sue Ann. What a tender-hearted and vivacious man he was! His reaction to the diet pills is laugh-out-loud funny – if only we all took such attitudes towards food…I’d be out of a job, but we’d all be ever so much happier!
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how I can shift my tendency from the glass half-empty to one of half-full, and these lessons from your father bring up a biggy – again something a lot of us could benefit from: Rather than focusing on the stuff from my parents, that I like to mull over and rehash, in an attempt to sort out what went “wrong”, and how I can “fix” myself as a result, I would like to look through the pages of my memories and find the blossoms of love and wisdom instead!
You are truly blessed, and my wish for you is that those blessings sustain you in the coming days and weeks.
What a wonderful example of how you important the lessons are that we learn from our parents!
You’re dad nourished his family with love, wisdom and sweetness. What more can you ask for? Thank you for sharing your memories, they are beautiful! XO
You’re so lucky to have grown up with this set of values! Many don’t. What a fantastic tribute to your father. #7 – truer than true.
What a beautiful piece and tribute to your father. It sounds like he had a life well- lived! May we all take these lessons to heart. Blessings my friend…
Dear Sweet Sue Ann,
condolences on this loss and thank you for sharing this well written piece and your love oh hime with us.
Thinking of you, Gwen
What a beautiful post; thanks for sharing your feelings & learnings. You were a lucky child to have such a father as this. It sounds as if you’ve learned from a truly smart man – he was lucky to have a daughter such as you; your soul and his were both nourished. I am glad for him that he has gone to a better place even though it must be very hard on you. Hugs to you, ej
this is so beautiful – thanks for sharing!
Dear Sue Ann, I am sorry for the loss of your Dad. I know how close you were to him. I still feel so sad when we lose a parent–someone who has been in our lives for our entire life–indelibly leaving their mark on us. Beautiful memories you have made for his legacy and thank you for sharing. Much love, Marsha
Sue Ann, this is such a beautiful tribute to your dad. I am moved to tears at the beauty of his spirit and of your love for him. I never met your dad, but I feel like I get to love him through you. Through these stories. It really underscores for me the truth that people’s spirits live on through their legacy. What you’ve shared here will impact so many people. Sam’s generous, warm heart, will continue to touch people. I feel like one of the lucky people in line at the grocery store he gets to connect to Sam. 🙂
What a beautiful tribute, Sue Ann. Thinking of you and your family during this difficult time.
Much love,
Michelle
i actually commented on this post once before on june 18, 2012! i was moved by it then and i am moved by it again. two years ago, before i had the chance to get to know you, sue ann. the luscious legacy your wonderful father left behind includes a creative and loving daughter who inspires others to notice the beauty of life with her lovely words and gentle nature. a sweet goodnight to you, sam.
You father sounds like a very wise man! I really like the part about chatting with everyone and celebrating life. I think personal contact with people in passing is a dying art. Less and less you see people who know their neighbors, who interact with people outside of their immediate circles. We are all busy, but making personal contact in our daily life is so important and fulfilling.
The part about celebrating life sounds a lot like my own father (as most of these did). Every meal he had was “the best meal of his life” and there was excitement and life in everything he did. It is one of the things I admired most about him. I strive to look at the world with new eyes every single day as if every experience is the first one ever! Thank you for sharing this!
What a wonderful tribute to your dad. He was an exceptional man, I can see. Very much like my dad, who also taught me things I still try to learn…really LEARN. My dad also loved to talk to folks in the grocery store; I always attributed it to his midwest upbringing that moving to NYC couldn’t change. I miss my dad every day and try to remember what he would say to me if he were still here; what lessons he would continue to teach me. You, and I, were VERY blessed with wonderful dads. God bless.
What a loving and beautiful post about your dad. He seemed to be a bundle full of joy and always present. There were so many inspiring lessons in your tribute to your dad, but I guess the one that I resonate with the most is, “Imagine what our lives would be like if we cared for and loved ourselves that fully.” This is one that I truly want to practice everyday.
Thanks so much for sharing your life with your father Sue Ann.