10 things I love about my dad

Father's Day is Sunday, June 17. We set aside this day each year to pay tribute to our fathers, grandfathers or other male figures who have loved us, provided for us, put a roof over our heads and helped form us into responsible, productive citizens. So much has been said and written about a father's presence in the lives of his children. Sadly, this is the 21st Father's Day that my dad -- Frowin J. Stoltz -- has been absent. He died on December 29, 1991 at age 80. Every day I miss my dad more and I have a greater appreciation for the gifts he gave me. Not the physical gifts, although he was always generous with those as well. But the gifts that helped shape me and the gifts I've come to appreciate more and more as the years have passed. I'd love to spend a few hours with Dad -- to ask him tough, thoughtful questions about being an adult and a husband and father. I often find myself wondering "What would dad do?" I don't think I truly appreciated my dad and everything that he did for me until it was too late to tell him. So this Father's Day, although I don't have Dad here to send a card to, I want to tell him what I truly loved and learned in all those years when he thought I probably wasn't paying any attention. 1. Work ethic. Dad worked long days at New Farmers Grain elevator in Alexandria, SD, leaving the house at 7 a.m. and walking the approximately 8 blocks to work, and then returning home at 6 p.m. that evening. His glasses and overalls would be covered with the grain dust from measuring and moving grain among the elevator's storage bins. And when harvest demanded longer hours, he would leave earlier, get home later, and never complain. He was happy to have a job that provided for his wife, five sons and daughter. I believe it was his example that all six of us followed to be hard-working, productive adults. We had a dad who showed us how it's done. 2. Leadership. Dad was head of our household. There was no doubt. Whenever I wanted to borrow the family car to take my girlfriend on a date, I would ask Mom because she ran the household, and we kids usually went to her first with our problems. But the buck stopped with Dad. At the end of a hard day of work Dad would come home, eat dinner and then relax to read the day's newspaper. We kids knew to leave Dad to his few minutes of relaxation. But when I started straining to use the family car, Mom would say, "Go ask your dad. It's his car." And Dad, God bless him, never said 'no.' I knew that driving Dad's car was a privilege and I had better treat it with all the respect and care that my Dad did. And so I would obey the traffic rules to the letter, and put $2 worth of gas in it before returning the keys. Thanks, Dad, for trusting me. 3. Stature. Dad was tall and lanky. He stood 6'2" with a long stride that I so admired. Although I never met my grandfather, Seth, I can tell from pictures that Dad was a dead ringer for his father. I can't speak for my siblings but I always wanted to be six feet tall, and while one or two of us may have reached that height (I'm not sure if any of us actually did), I stopped growing just short of 5'11". Rather than being tall and thin like Dad, I was shorter and heavier, bearing more the physical traits of the Jarding family. There's nothing wrong with that. It just makes seeing over everyone's head in church a little more difficult. 4. Spirituality. Dad and Mom made sure that we always attended Mass on Sundays, holidays and special events. Friday nights during Lent usually meant Stations of the Cross. Also during Lent the family would kneel in the living room and say the Holy Rosary on week nights. I served Mass for two years during high school as well. And we always went to Holy Week services. People knew where we sat in church because our pew had a small clip that perfectly held Dad's fedora. 5. Humor. Dad had an easy, natural, disarming smile, and a deep bass voice that was a pleasure to hear. I enjoyed listening to that smooth bass as he would draw out the words, singing leisurely along with Mitch Miller or Lawrence Welk. I will always think of Dad when I hear Mitch Miller, whom I learned to appreciate growing up in our household. And Lawrence Welk was a Saturday night staple in our house until Dad's final years. 6. Integrity. There was never a dishonest bone in Dad's body. With two sisters who became nuns and a relative who was a priest, there couldn't be. I never knew Dad to be other than honest in any undertaking. Dad knew that honesty was always the best policy. It was really the only policy. It made life much easier when you didn't have to remember what you told someone. When you stuck to the truth, you always knew where you stood. We kids knew we were always on solid ground as long as we told our parents the truth. 7. Patience. Although Dad was not known for his infinite patience, he was more than patient with me -- and I think the others as well -- when we were learning to drive. I remember Dad pulling our blue Ford Fairlane over to the side of the road and allowing me to get behind the wheel -- and gain some valuable driving experience. I never felt nervous or anxious. Dad would put me at ease and let me appreciate and absorb the experience. 8. Talent or skill. Call it what you will, but Dad had a God-given talent -- woodworking. He built many things over the years -- shelves, bird (purple martin) houses, cabinets, etc. It was not uncommon to hear his power saw whining in the garage at night after dinner. This was a gift that was passed on to Roger, who became well known for his exquisitely ornate clocks. Like Dad, Rog loved to spend hours working in his shed on wood projects. I often wished that great skill had been passed on to me, because I still have trouble nailing two boards together. 9. Character. One of my favorite childhood memories occurred when I was about 10 years old. Dad took me to a Minnesota Twins game in Minneapolis on a Farmers Union bus tour. Along with a bunch of other folks we accompanied a friend of Dad's who was on the local elevator board of directors, and his grandson, who was also one of my best friends. I was a huge Twins fan -- lived and died with my childhood heroes Earl Battey, Tony Oliva, Harmon Killebrew, et al. Although Dad was not a sports fan, he did this hugely memorable trip for me. As I recall, the Twins won their game at the old Metropolitan Stadium in 11 innings. It's still there in my memory, 40-some years later. Larger than life. And now I appreciate more than ever what Dad did. He hit a home run with me. A Grand Slam. 10. Legacy. Like his dad before him, Dad managed a grain elevator all his adult life. He was well-known and respected in Alexandria. Dad served as city auditor for several years, and I remember that huge rolltop desk that came with the job and sat in our front porch. But Dad also lived an exemplary life that he could take pride in. He raised a beautiful daughter and five handsome sons to be productive, thoughtful adults. He loved his family. And we loved him. I can't help but feel I miss Dad more and more every year. I learned so much from him and I would've loved to learn so much more. But we ran out of time. Still, Dad wasn't without his faults. No one is. I can think of a few of those too, but they weren't many. And I try to emulate the good. He wasn't perfect, but no one is. But he was my father, and he will always be my dad.