Daddy

Daddy gives me trip money for every trip and looks just like grandpa when he does. I still remember him and grandpa having their scripted argument over travel money. I wonder how old I will have to be before I will argue about it. Probably when I am ready to give travel money to my kid. Travel money is invested money; it says, "Come back soon."

I remember watching my dad take care of his parents. Every weekend or so we used to drive a couple hours to spend the day or two with Grandpa and Grandma. Weed the garden. Mow the lawn. Rake the leaves. I remember their big old wheel barrel. But I remember his commitment to his parents even more. I feel that strongly. That when it is my turn, I will be there.

One of the greatest things my father ever did for me was give me cds. The summer after I had been to Brazil for the first time (in 1999), I wanted to return again. I prayed about it and tried, but nothing seemed to work out. I knew that Brazil was something special to me, I just didn’t know how it fit. My dad didn’t say much during my frustration, but one day he gave me a pack of Portuguese language cds.

“Don’t give up on your dream. If God spoke to you about Brazil, then you will go back. And until then, you should learn some Portuguese.” We were pulling up to the drive through at Taco Bell, and I just sat there quietly with the cds in my lap. I knew that I believed that God had spoken to me about Brazil, but I hadn’t known that anyone else had believed it as well. Those cds were like tangible proof of faith unseen: it was real, God did speak to little me, and one day it would come to pass.