A Father’s Day Story

Father’s Day is just around the corner and we will all pause and give a nod to the men who raised us or helped us be created.  When father’s day rolls around, I always face it with some melancholy feelings.  I did not have a great relationship with either my natural father or step-father.  But, when I think about a story that is sad, I always remember my Great Uncle Lem’s story.

Lem was in World War II and served his country in the Navy as a radar man in planes.  He went out on a boat and when the war was over he came home to Texas and met his first wife.  They had a son during that time and named him Mack.  They had the beginnings of a good story, and then the Korean War happened.  Lem was recalled to train the new radar men in the new war.  He was told to report to Virginia.  His wife told him to go ahead but she and Mack were staying in Texas with her mom.  Lem reported because he had to and she stayed in Texas.

A little while after he reported, Lem received some documents letting him know that he was getting divorced.  She had decided the military life was not for her and Mack.  That is half way understandable.  But then for her to tell Mack that Lem had chosen to leave them and did not want them anymore, was tragic for him.  During his son’s life, Lem reached out and saw him when he was allowed to see him.  Mack always believed his mother’s words and did not want to see his father.

When Mack was older, he became a sheriff in a Texas county and Lem stopped by to see him on his way to Lubbock for a family reunion.  Lem told Mack he wanted to stop and see him on his way back to Michigan.  A week later Lem stopped back to catch up with Mack only to be told that Mack had resigned and moved, and left instructions for Lem to not be given any information on whereabouts.  As Lem told me these story years later, he still hesitated and wiped some tears.  It was not until he received a phone call from a grandson that he learned of Mack’s death.

Uncle Lem had only known a painful life as a father.  He remarried and had two step children whom he loved.  When we talked, I could always tell though, that Lem missed that paternal bond with his son.

I met Lem when I was 14 in Lubbock at my sister’s high school graduation.  I had not talked to him since that time until 2000 when my own father died.  He found out that we lived only away 40 minutes from each other.  He called and we talked, and then he drove up to church one Sunday.  He walked in and there was no guessing who he was.  He was definitely my Grandpa’s brother.  After we talked for a minute, I went to a room and cried because I missed my Grandpa; and the loss of my own father sort of hit me hard at that moment.  Lem and I started to play golf.  He was the only one I would have played that cursed game with all the time. 

We played one Friday before a Father’s Day and we picked him up a card and a gift card for him and gave it to him over lunch.  It was a Happy Father’s Day card and I think it shocked him a little.  You see, in only a few short years he had become the father I always missed and maybe I became the son he never knew.  That day he looked at me and asked if it was alright if he started calling me son.  I told him I would like that, and our relationship took on an even deeper meaning for both of us.

Lem passed in March of 2014.  He went into the hospital on a Sunday. Shelly and I went and spent the afternoon with him and laughed and watched golf on the TV in his room.  When we got ready to leave I told Shelly to really tell him goodbye and she almost broke down.  She kissed him and they shared their love for each other one last time.  At 2 am I got the call that he was fading and if I wanted to see him I better get there.  I made that 45 minute drive in 25 and as I pulled into Battle Creek, a calm came over me that let me know Lem was reunited with Betty, his second wife, and that he was breathing easy in heaven.

I believe Uncle Lem and I found each other at just the right time.  14 years seems life a short time in this long life we all live.  But those 14 years made me a better man and I hope brought Lem some joy as he taught us all to golf and my boys best memory are Thanksgiving at his house before he passed.  They laughed and told stories as I finished cooking lunch with Shelly and all seemed good in our hearts. 

You see, fathers are something just weird.  They are supposed to show us the way when many times they do not even understand the journey ahead.  Uncle Lem became the father I always needed but never had.  That is the glory of the way God works in our lives.  Maybe that is why Jesus taught us to pray to “Our Father.” But maybe we’ll talk about that soon.