When I was 10 years old, a
man named Bill Blackshaw came into my life and transformed my world from
black-and-white to bright rainbow
Technicolor. From the moment we met, I
adored my Dad. He stepped into the role
of being a father quite easily – with his combination of playful humor, gentle
guidance and unbreakable loyalty and love.
Over the years, Dad and I
grew to be friends. We met for coffee,
shooting the breeze for hours – about politics, current events, music, history,
travel – you name it. Dad always had something interesting to say.
During the hard times, Dad
was available at a moment’s notice – to help with the kids, or to do an errand,
or simply to listen. I will miss his
friendship beyond words.
Two legacies of Dad stand
above others for me. In a conversation
with my daughter, Dad asked, “Jessica, why do we learn?” She responded she didn’t know, to which he
advised, “We learn so that we can teach.”
Truly, Dad was a consummate
learner, never without a book or magazine in his hand, on his nightstand, or in
his lap. When I finished college, I left my textbooks on the shelves in my
bedroom and Dad read through just about every one of them – really read them,
with underlining and notes in the margin.
But Dad was equally a
teacher – eager to impart interesting tidbits of information,
or read his favorite poems,
or teach his kids to develop
a black and white photo,
or to ski,
or make scrambled eggs,
or clean a toilet like they
did in the army,
or saw planks of wood for a
backyard clubhouse.
A yearning for knowledge,
coupled with an enthusiasm for sharing all that he loved – that was the
hallmark of my Dad.
But the most precious gift
Dad gave to me, and all of us today in this church, was his open and generous heart. His was a heart that never ran out of love,
and one that was always ready to forgive. Dad never wasted time on grudges. He could erase anger or hurt feelings
seamlessly with a gently-placed joke or reassurance. And he always had room for one more
friend. His loyalty and love for his
family was fierce. It defined who he
was, and guided every decision he made. It will be an inspiration and comfort for me for the rest of my life.
Dad, thanks for gracing our
lives with your wit, your spirit and your love. We will miss
you dearly.
Julie Blackshaw, November 3, 2007
Comments