So You Don’t Have To

Perfect Amount of Poor Lessons I Learned From My Father

My family wasn’t one for soft, emotional expressions of love. We’re more of a “love by roast” kind of family, and my Dad may be the king of that.

He’s also one of the smartest people I know.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how many of the things I do, believe, and value came from him. Some lessons were taught directly. Others I learned simply by watching.

In honor of Father’s Day, here are a few things I learned from my father, and I hope you can take away a few tips as well.

Have a garden

My Dad is the gardener in the family. He taught me how to grow food, when to water, when to harvest, and why food from your own garden somehow tastes better than anything from the store (tip: It’s often the soil!).

More importantly, he taught me that good things take time and planning. You can’t just throw together or ignore a garden for months and expect a harvest. The same is true for most things worth having.

Several years ago, my Dad and I built this rock wall around my hostas for free. It was a lot of work, but I think about it almost every time I see it. For a camera-shy Dad, this is the best image I have to reflect him in this piece.

There’s not much that can’t be fixed

Years ago, my elliptical broke and I figured it was done for; time for a new one.

My Dad saw it differently.

His first instinct is almost never to replace something. It’s to figure out what’s wrong. Sometimes it needs a replacement part. Sometimes it needs creativity. Sometimes it just needs somebody willing to take it apart and look.

That lesson has saved me a lot of money over the years.

Never half ass anything. Always whole ass everything.

This is unfortunately one of his best contributions. I say unfortunately, because it often forces me to do the right way, which is often the hard way.

If you’re going to do something, do it right.

I still hear that voice when I’m tempted to rush through something. Whether it’s mowing a lawn, fixing a project, writing an article, or doing my job, I know somebody’s going to see the finished product.

As my Dad would say, if your name is attached to it, it represents you. Do it and do it right.

Don’t lose your sense of humor

My Dad has always been a teaser. A typical Dad-joke kind of guy.

I’ll be singing along to a song when he’ll suddenly ask, completely serious:

“Who sings that song, Jess?”

I answer.

Then he asks, “Do you know why they sang that song?”

Now I’m curious. Why? He didn’t know who sang it a second ago…

“Why?”

“So you don’t have to.”

I’ve heard versions of that joke for years, and somehow I still fall for it.

Life is easier when you can laugh. My Dad figured that out a long time ago.

Smart people don’t always have fancy titles

My Dad worked in a factory until it closed.

He doesn’t have a wall full of degrees or an impressive title.

He’s still one of the smartest people I know.

He’s a lifelong learner. He reads. He figures things out. He asks questions. He pays attention.

He taught me that intelligence and credentials are not the same thing.

Be there when people need help

My Dad isn’t overly sentimental.

In fact, if he reads this article, he’ll probably make fun of me for writing it.

But he’s softer than he lets on.

His neighbor lost her son in a car accident. Her husband has dementia. Life has dealt her more than her share.

My Dad’s explanation for helping her is simple:

“She has it tough.”

So he mows her lawn.

He helps with her pool.

Not because anybody is watching. Not because he wants credit.

Because she has it tough and he wants to make it a little easier.

That’s it.

It’s not bad

For years, my Dad’s highest form of praise was:

“It’s not bad.”

Sometimes, if I was really lucky:

“It’s not bad. It’s not good either, but it’s not bad.”

As funny as it was, it taught me something.

Compliments mean more when they’re earned.

And when my Dad tells me something is good, I know he means it.

Happy Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day to all of the Dads out there, and especially to mine. Thanks for the garden, the jokes, the standards, the skepticism, the practical wisdom, and all the lessons that somehow keep showing up years later.

It’s not bad.