I'm Glad You're My Dad!

My Dad passed away in December, 1990. Though it's a long time ago now, Father's Day never comes but what I think about the things that made him so special.

• He served in World War II as a medic in Guam, Okinawa and Hawaii and came home in 1945. After a time driving a bus for the city of Detroit, he took advantage of a chance at a career as a salesman and never looked back.
• In retrospect, it's apparent that "not looking back" became part of his personna. Though his childhood was full of obstacles and difficulties, he never spent time mourning over the negatives or the if-onlies and what-ifs. He just went on to something better.
• Over a span of thirty-six years, he sold many different things; Vlasic, Heinz, Walker Automotive, Eutectic Welding andVestal Chemicals. Though he traveled during the week, he would plan his schedule so he'd be home every weekend.
• Daddy was a "cock-eyed optomist." His perennial outlook was "things are going to get better." He'd grin a big, goofy grin, lean close to mom and say, "Stick by me and you'll wear pearls." Another of his famous one-liners always ended with "...when my ship comes in."
• He loved nonsense poems and songs; The Owl and the Pussycat, The Jabberwok, Under the Sweet Magnolia Tree, 'Twas Midnight on the Ocean, Rise Up My Dearest Dear, Clancy Lowered the Boom, It's Nice to Get Up in the Morning, and A - I'm Adorable are a few of the poems and tunes we heard frequently. If he ever did get sad (or mad) about something, you could usually cheer him up by requesting one of his favorite poems or songs. What's more, he had an incredible capacity to memorize any new ones he heard. So his repertoire was constantly growing. In 1966, after a major heart attack and shortly after being removed from a respirator, he treated my niece and myself to a recitation of "Under the Sweet Magnolia Tree." The sight was something I'll never forget. There he was - laying there with monitors beeping and tubes exiting everywhere. But he put his fingertips together and with his eyes closed began at the beginning, grinning all the while. It made both of us giggle and that made him feel better too.
• He was faithful and loyal. He came to God when he was sixteen years old and led his mother to the Lord soon after. That was in 1936 in the old Royal Oak church pastored by Bro. C. C. Kirby. He loved this truth and gladly followed the Lord and his pastor's teaching. Down through all the years of my memory, I never had a question as to what my parents thought about this truth. It was forever settled for both of them. That made for tremendous stablility for me and for my brothers and sister.
• Daddy was an anchor point. There was no question as to where my dad would be. On church nights, prayer meetings, revivals, special services, saints meetings, work days and nights... you name it, he was there - we all were! We arrived early and stayed until the altar services were closed. It was in a Sunday evening service, in the midst of the years of faithfulness that I was baptized in Jesus' Name. Seven months later, after another Sunday evening service, I received the Holy Ghost. I can truly say, faithfulness pays dividends.
• From the day of his conversion until the day of his death, he was a member of only two churches - Bro. Kirby's in Royal Oak, and after his death, daddy resettled his family with the Reeds in Troy, Michigan.
• When age and illness slowed his body down, he still loved to be of service. He would arrive at least a half-hour early so he could bring the water pitcher to the platform for the pastor. It was a small thing, but he saw to it that the thermal pitcher was cleaned and filled with fresh cold water for every service. He would make his way to the platform about fifteen minutes before service started with a tray holding the pitcher, a clean glass and a clean cloth towel to cover them.
• Not long before he became ill, he told me his life's ambition and prayer was to live so he could leave this world a better place than it was when he came. When I look back, I have no doubt that he was blessed by the Lord who heard his desire and granted his petition.

I'm glad I was born to John Raymond and Marjorie Edith Broyles. I'm also glad and thankful for the firm foundation they gave me. I will be eternally grateful for this precious truth and the way they lived and modeled it before me. This Father's Day I wanted to honor my dad. (I wrote an earlier piece about my mom and a picture taken in about 1948 is on the sidebar at the right.) He was a unique individual. He could be stern and formiddable if crossed, but he loved his children and desired God's best for us all. When we did right it made him so proud.

A week before he died, while visiting in North Carolina, daddy gave his final testimony. We did not know it was his last at the time but we all noted how he was full of thanksgiving for what the Lord had done in his family and faith in the Lord who was going to complete the work. That was yet another Sunday evening in a long line of faithfulness. That night, daddy got to hear his son preach. Though John had been preaching for some time, this was the first time daddy ever heard him. It was such a thrill to see daddy's joy. Before another Sunday came, my dad had been called home to glory.

And now years have come and gone. Three more grandchildren (with one one the way,) and fourteen great-grandchildren (with one on the way,) have been born since daddy's death. He would have thoroughly enjoyed every one of them and would have regaled them with renditions of his favorite silly songs and poems. They'd have loved it (and him) and he'd have basked in the knowing that they enjoyed his humor. But more importantly I believe, he would have wanted to be sure that they too were rooted and grounded in this glorious truth. Daddy lived his faith. He died in faith. And we who remain have a heritage and a legacy of faithfulness that needs to be passed on to our children and their children too.