Life Lessons Learned from Dad

I have spent a lot of time thinking about my Dad over the last few days. Had he lived, he would have been 94 years old.  He has been gone for over 10 years now, and still not a day goes by that I don’t think of him.  I learned a lot of valuable lessons from my Dad, but not a lot of them were the sort of things you learn by sitting down and having a long talk.  Most of what I learned from my Dad was learned by watching how he lived his life.

Dad taught me the value of an “old school” work ethic.  He left for work at the Pepsi-Cola plant every morning at 8:00, and aside from taking an hour for supper, he worked straight through until 7:00 or 8:00 every evening.  I can’t remember a single instance of my Dad leaving his office for lunch, and I don’t remember him missing a day of work because he was sick.  In his later years with the company, when he moved from office manager to warehouse manager, Dad would be on the job by 4:00 a.m. every day.  He retired at age 76, complaining that the company wouldn’t allow him to keep working.  I generally leave my house for the office at 6:30 or so each day, and whenever my wife asks why I’m leaving so early, I just think back to my Dad and smile.   At 75 years old, Dad would have already had two hours in.

Dad also taught me important lessons about respect.   After 40+ years, the owner of the plant where Dad worked was still “Mr. Ovies”.  All of the other supervisors referred to him as “Joe”, but not my father.  I asked him about that once, and he proceeded to explain the importance of showing respect where respect was due.  Outside of the workplace, Dad always demanded that I show the appropriate respect for him, and especially for my Mom.  There were only two times in my life that my father laid a hand on me.  The first was when I was six or seven years old, when he delivered a well-deserved spanking.  The last was when I was seventeen, and I used some inappropriate language while arguing with my Mom.  A quick right hand reminded me that I should never disrespect my mother that way again.

More importantly, Dad taught me about the value of kindness.  I don’t know that “kind” would be the first word people who knew my Dad would use to describe him, but those who knew him best would certainly agree.  I remember him buying an extra box of pizza at DiCarlo’s to give to the co-worker whose family was struggling.  I remember him slipping $5.00 to the disabled young boy who used to hang around the Pepsi booth during the circus on Wheeling Island.  I remember him getting out the snow blower in the winter, and proceeding to clear the sidewalks of seven or eight different houses around the block before he stopped.  “They’re older folks and they need the help,” he would explain.  He was 75.

I don’t ever recall my Dad sitting me down to have a long talk about the important lessons to learn in life.  Maybe that’s because he wasn’t always great at putting his thoughts into words, or maybe he just didn’t want to lecture me.  Maybe he thought it best to teach by example.  Whatever the reason, I will always be proud of the life he lived and the example he set.  Lessons learned, Dad.  Lessons learned.

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