In Dad’s Life Lessons On The Wall, I shared an easy and loving way to teach your child important life lessons. Perhaps one of my lessons is one of yours?
Rule #1: Family comes first, starting with your brother.
I have two personal experiences that make this Rule #1.
I’m proud of neither. One has a happy ending.
The Ghostbusters video
Remember Friday Night Videos? For those of us who didn’t have cable (thanks, Dad), NBC aired this 90-minute show featuring music videos, a new concept back then.
I loved it. I would sit there with my VHS recorder and tape all the videos.
This was important stuff; sacred time. There was no reasonable excuse to interrupt me. (I still have my tapes.)
Finally, one of my very favorite songs came on. Ghostbusters! A bonus feature: it even had a scantily-clad model I recognized running through it. And I was taping it all!
In walks Dad. He has something to say.
My reaction was visceral and fierce. “GET OUT OF MY WAY!!” That didn’t go over so well.
He was maaaad. “That’s just a television show! I am your father!!”
Moral of the story: Family comes first. More important than things. Zach can relate to this story. (Luke doesn’t really understand Daddy’s stories yet.)
Cranky after a nap
As a high schooler, I wasn’t very nice to my family. Plenty of smiles and energy for my friends. Cranky and selfish at home.
One day my dad challenged me: “Why are you so nice to your friends and so mean to us?”
Without a pause I answered, “Because you have to take it. If acted like this to my friends, they wouldn’t be my friends anymore.”
I told you I wasn’t proud of it.
In a lesson I never forgot, Dad told me that “friends come and go, but family remains.” And while I’ve clearly had and have some exceptional and supportive friends, he was right on most occasions. Many friends were transitory. We were close while we were in school together, or worked together, or some such thing.
But family remains. Which is why Moral #2 is family comes first. More important than friends.
I add in “starting with your brother” because, God give us long life, I hope the boys will outlive us both. I want them to be best friends forever.
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Oh, and the happy ending I promised. When I thought I was going to lose my 83-year-old father two years ago (he’s still ticking), I apologized for what I said. I told him how important the lesson was to me. I told him how it became Rule #1. And I was happy that I had the chance to apologize face-to-face in this lifetime.
Good luck from a fellow Dad,
Other posts from Joe Hage:
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Joe:
Very reflective post. It is funny how we sometimes forget the power of family…the staying power that comes from it. Thanks for sharing.
Jeff
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Joe:
Very reflective post. It is funny how we sometimes forget the power of family…the staying power that comes from it. Thanks for sharing.
Jeff
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Love the post. It’s interesting how a few short conversations can really be pivotal in defining how we approach the world.
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Love the post. It’s interesting how a few short conversations can really be pivotal in defining how we approach the world.
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One of the greatest lessons I’ve learnt (and continue to learn) from my Dad is meekness, before God and Man. Dad is possibly the meekest guy you will ever meet. In a lot of ways he’s the opposite to me. He’s quiet, thoughtful, and doesn’t need the respect of his peers to feel validated (although he most certainly is validated).
The kind of meekness my Dad exhibits is not weakness. The world so often sees and portrays meekness and weak and fluffy. Pushovers. My Dad is not a pushover. He might seem that way, but that’s because he’s okay not pushing forward his opinions and thoughts onto other people.
It’s strength at it’s best. Being able to carry on in the hardest of roles/jobs for years, enduring pain and criticism, watching people come and go (he’s a preacher). His character is not determined by what other people think.
If there’s anything I want to reflect of my Dad it’s his meekness.
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One of the greatest lessons I’ve learnt (and continue to learn) from my Dad is meekness, before God and Man. Dad is possibly the meekest guy you will ever meet. In a lot of ways he’s the opposite to me. He’s quiet, thoughtful, and doesn’t need the respect of his peers to feel validated (although he most certainly is validated).
The kind of meekness my Dad exhibits is not weakness. The world so often sees and portrays meekness and weak and fluffy. Pushovers. My Dad is not a pushover. He might seem that way, but that’s because he’s okay not pushing forward his opinions and thoughts onto other people.
It’s strength at it’s best. Being able to carry on in the hardest of roles/jobs for years, enduring pain and criticism, watching people come and go (he’s a preacher). His character is not determined by what other people think.
If there’s anything I want to reflect of my Dad it’s his meekness.
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