Soo Line: Reminders of Father’s Day make me think of my Dad

 by Soo Greiman 

My attention was drawn to the card display in a drug store recently. No matter the  occasion, I always gravitate to the humorous birthday cards because some are hilarious, so it’s  good to keep a supply of them on hand. Without realizing which section I was in, I mistakenly  picked one up, read it and felt the familiar vertical drop of my heart. It was a Father’s Day card.  

It’s hard to find joy in Father’s Day cards since my dad’s passing six years ago. A  longtime farmer, he died at age 94 while battling both dementia and COVID-19. Despite that  one-two punch taking him out, he’d lived a good, productive life.  

He died in 2020, my mom passed in 2000, and although I am at peace with both of  them leaving earthly life, I wonder if we ever get beyond the feeling of missing our parents. I’d  sure like to be able to enter a room and shout, “Happy Father’s Day!” to him days from now  and watch his face light up with a smile.  

Still, I have a treasure trove of memories of him and the lessons on life, intentional and  unintentional, that he taught me. So, out of gratitude, I’m sharing some of what I learned from  him. If I could send this Hudson Herald column to Heaven, here is what I’d say.  

I know I was luckier than most by having him here for so long. Here to share happiness  with, turn to for advice, cry over losses with, celebrate holidays with and welcome wonderful  new additions to our family. What a joy it was to watch him the day he married Mary Kay. It was  a special lesson to us all that life goes on after the death of a spouse and that finding someone  to share it with after 70 is happily possible.  

Some lessons my dad taught me were profound. REALLY profound, like when “NO!” is  a complete sentence, why skills are needed when doing the Russian leg-kick dance, the truth  of the Bible, the importance of eating a bowl of oatmeal every morning, that farm animals —  hogs, for example — can illustrate basic sex education, and why family, church, John Deere  tractors, Duroc hogs, good saddle horses, the Dairy Cattle Congress and an occasional “sodie  pop” are the best things to surround yourself with.  

As a teenager, I remember, Dad, you had difficulty understanding why hair was so  important to us kids and how music made by singers called “The Rat Finks” and “The Kinks”  even sounded good. Graciously though, for several years in the 1960s, you allowed us to play  our music at deafening volume in the cattle shed while a number of teens worked on  Homecoming floats.  

I admired your understanding after receiving a late-night phone call from one of your  children (thankfully not me) informing you that he or she, who shall remain nameless, was,  along with many other classmates, being held in cells at the Black Hawk County Jail. You were  requested to come bail him or her out.  

Your advice to all three of your children about finding our own passions and then  sticking with them was right on. A favorite statement you made to prove that was, “Just look at  this family. For five generations we’ve lived here and farmed this ground in Black Hawk  County.”  

I’m very happy that a member of the sixth generation of our family holds that passion  and continues to farm it today. We’re just a few years away from receiving the beloved  distinction of being a Heritage Farm, signifying it has been in the same family for 150 years.  

I admit now, you were right when you pointed out I was “acting like a knot head” when  it came to arguing about boyfriends, adhering to a midnight curfew, wearing short skirts and  when I was “headed in the wrong direction” as an adult. Sorry I never told you.  

I could fill many more column inches here telling the life lessons I learned from you and  the huge impact you had on my life. Thanks for all of it. I hope you realized while you were here  how much you meant to me.  

Rest in peace, Dad, and Happy Heavenly Father’s Day.  

From Soo, your well-adjusted middle child who misses you.