Today, I have a lot on my mind. It is the 22nd anniversary of my Dad, Big D, passing, and it is election day.  So, in honor of my Dad, to celebrate our democracy and organize the many thoughts in my head, I will attempt what former President Trump calls the weave.   

My definition of the weave is connecting several lines of disparate thought to develop a consistent theme.   Today’s weave will hopefully create a tapestry of life lessons that lead to wellness.  The thread that ties this weave together is the many lessons I learned from my father and how they have helped me become a better person.  So, let’s start weaving.

Big Russ and Me

I find myself missing Tim Russert this election day. Tim Russert was and still is my favorite journalist. He was the epitome of authenticity and enthusiasm for our democracy. The longtime host of Meet the Press, he was thorough, insightful, and always civil but challenging in his questioning.  I used to watch Meet the Press every Sunday but now seldom watch Sunday news programs.

Another reason I miss Tim Russert is his dedication to family. He wrote one of my favorite memoirs, Big Russ &  Me, about his relationship with his father, Big Russ, and the lessons he learned from him. 

Big Russ and Tim’s relationship reminded me of my one with my Dad, Big D.   The similarities are uncanny. Both raised four children with their wives, did not finish high school, had blue-collar jobs, and served in the military.   Believe it or not, both worked on a Garbage truck.  But most importantly, they both taught life lessons that made their sons better people.

I will not write a book like Tim for this election day weave of lessons (although I could and will someday).  Instead, I will provide the top five lessons I learned from my Dad, resonating even more loudly 22 years after his passing.

Get the Iron Out of the Door.   

What is the iron? Where’s the door?  Iron refers to large turbines that generate electricity in dams.   Big D was a steelworker/machinist, and it was his job to repair the turbines and get them out the door as quickly as possible to their destinations worldwide.  Equally important was ensuring the turbines did not have to come back through the door: this required diligence, consistency, and hard work.    

The lesson is to learn your craft, roll up your sleeves, and work daily at your vocation and for your family.  Worry more about your friends and family than the election, For more on this lesson and how I applied it to my career in information technology, please read my blog, Getting the Iron Out the Door.

There is Always Room for Improvement. 

My dad was good at getting the iron out the door, but he always looked for ways to make his team get it done faster, cheaper, and with higher quality. Likewise, he taught us that no matter how well you do, there is always room for improvement. 

He applied this lesson to his personal life.  As mentioned earlier, Big D and Big Russ had not graduated high school.  My dad left school to help his mom and family and entered the Air Force. He got his GED, machinist journeyman certification, and further education in a community college. 

I remember him returning after overtime at DeLaval and practicing the words fuma and puma in Spanish very intently.  Over 50 years later, I can still hear him practicing to better communicate with his fellow union workers. 

One more story about improvement from this lesson.  Improvement does not come quickly.  You must make slow, steady practice.  Big D  demonstrated this aspect by building a lake on his retirement property. 

I remember the first time my Dad started building the lake.  He had just got the backhoe and had begun scraping out a ditch.  He took my brother and me out there.  Then, pointing to a muddy gouge with a few puddles, he said proudly, “Look at my lake!”. 

My brother and I started laughing.  Dad said, “Why are you laughing?”.  My bother pointed out, “Dad, when you say lake, it connotates images of water!  This is not a lake. It is a puddle.”  Dad just shook his head, climbed in his backhoe, and said, “You will see smart alecks.” 

And we saw.  A year or two later, there was a full-fledged lake.  The following year, fish were in the lake and on a dock.  But Dad kept tweaking the lake up to the day he died. 

We wondered why he did this since he proved his point and gave us our initial lesson.   Having returned to the land recently with the direct coordinates in hand,  I found an aerial picture revealing he built the lake in the shape of Texas!  If you want to see the before and after pictures, read our blog, The Return: Have A Vision as Big as Texas.  And always look for ways to improve!

Be Tough, But Have A Heart.   

One area in which my Dad did not need much improvement was toughness. My brother tells a great story about my Dad at one of the campouts that Dad hosted for my brother’s fraternity.  Big D had fallen asleep too close to the fire, and one of his cowboy boots started burning!  The fraternity brothers shook my Dad awake, yelling Big D! Big D! Your boot is on fire.  Big D, not batting an eye, took off the boot, smashed it in the dirt, extinguished the fire, and said, “I am the toughest SOB that ever walked the face of the earth.” 

Big D was tough due to his childhood, but he still had a big heart. He taught us that you must be firm but fair and have a heart for others. I best learned this lesson when I ran away from home. 

When I was 16, I made the rash decision to run away. I was distressed that I was moving away from my home in New Jersey and losing my friends. I thought the world was ending, but really, it was only beginning.

I do not know how he knew where I was going, but my Dad found me. He told me that he was sorry and that I was tough. He then explained that we needed to move to Texas to make a better life. He then hugged me, and I got in the car. There was no yelling. There was only love. 

You can read more about this story and other lessons in the blog: The Lesson Learned When Running Away.

Be Part of the Community.

Another thing that my dad instilled in me was the power of community.  My dad was our Cub Master,  our baseball and basketball coach,  a Union Vice President, a softball player, and a member of several men’s clubs.    He also had diverse friends and included some of our friends in our family. 

I carry with me the importance of community. I am a leader or participant in several civic organizations. The lesson I learned from Big D about community was threefold.

First, he led or was present in our activities to be part of his children’s lives. Second, when you meet people face to face, it is hard to stay in an argument.  You can cast aspersions on someone on Facebook without truly facing them.  It is tough to hold a grudge or an argument when you have to see the person the following week.  Last, when we act in the community, we build others up instead of tearing them down.  We become stronger when we act as a team.

The First and Last Lesson – Be Thankful. 

Big D was always thankful for his community and friends and was unafraid to show it. I will miss the heartfelt prayers of thanks my dad used to say before Thanksgiving dinner. They were simple but profound and gave thanks for all that was given to our family. 

But I will never forget the first Thanksgiving without him and the miracle provided us in his remembrance. I recommend you read the full Thanksgiving Cows blog here, but here is a synopsis and the lesson. 

Two weeks after Big D died, we went to my dad and mom’s ranch one last time for Thanksgiving. The ten cows he was raising were all expecting.

As we rounded the bend, my family saw two new baby calves. During the rest of Thanksgiving, a new calf was born about every hour, so there were nine near dinner time. However, one cow, Rosie, had a problem birthing her calf.  

After much chasing and antics, we finally got Rosie in the truck and took her to the veterinarian.  We did not have Thanksgiving dinner, but I would not have missed the event for the best food in the world.

I had never seen a calf being born; it was a tremendous sight. The vet wrapped a rope around the half-born calf and pulled it. The calf was born after a few moments that seemed like an eternity. After lying on the ground for a few moments, the calf made its first few steps and was alive.

At that moment, despite missing Thanksgiving Dinner, I was never more thankful. I was grateful for my dad’s gift of the cows, and I was thankful for the timing and happiness that the calves’ birth gave me and my family.

Whenever I feel let down or frustrated, I think back to the story of the Thanksgiving calves. And that is a Game Changer. Counting your blessings can change your attitude to one of positivity. It can lift you out of the despair of failure and toward the hope of tomorrow. 

The End of the Weave, Hope for Tomorrow. We close our weave by coming full circle to tomorrow’s election. Whether your candidate wins or not, let’s remember the lessons of Big D.  Wake up tomorrow to get the iron out the door and food on your family’s plate.  Look for ways to improve yourself and those around you.  Be passionate about your beliefs, but have a heart for those who may differ.  And most of all,  Join in the community and be thankful for this great country.  We owe it to the legacy of Big D and Big Russ.