My Best Man

When I was making plans for my wedding over 26 years ago, I asked my best friend to be my best man. I was pretty disappointed when I learned that he could not be in town on the day we had picked for our wedding. I struggled to think of someone to "fill in" as my best man, someone who could take up the slack and step in. Then it struck me. Why not ask my dad?
It was unconventional. I didn't even know if he would think it too unusual to go along with it. When I asked him, he seemed touched by the invitation and jumped in. He filled the gap.

I did not honor my dad much while he was living. I loved him and told him often. So, I have no regrets like many men who never shared their love with their father. However, I never really honored him as I should have. My dad was no saint. It's a club to which I also belong. Dad struggled with tobacco and gambling. I have my own struggles. He did not follow God for much of his life, but he always served his family. Days before his death he fully turned his life over to God by accepting Jesus Christ as his savior. Through the difficulty of his final days, I found unearthly peace in that knowledge.

Each year I learn more about my dad. It's not that people tell me stories I hadn't heard or that I find pages of a journal long undiscovered. I learn more about him by the occasional revelation that my dad was a great man. Again, I loved him and respected him, but it can take time, even years, to realize the greater things.

My dad was a tough disciplinarian. He was not afraid to use a belt and I saw the leather many times as I grew up. I now know that it was all deserved and it was an amazing investment in my life. My dad had a great sense of humor. He made our home a place of laughter. He was not afraid to make himself the clown to get a laugh, smile or even a "gee, dad, you are really embarrassing me" look. He loved dealing with telemarketers on the phone. One time a carpet cleaning salesman called. Dad, in one of his more creative moments replied, "Can your rug cleaner get out blood?" "Yes," replied the salesman. "Great, I've got a big blood stain here from where the body was."

Dad was a provider. We never went hungry, even when he lost jobs or hit very hard times. With a wife and five children at home, we always had what we needed. The food may have been generic brands and the clothes from Goodwill or hand-downs, but we never had a need. Dad was a hard worker. Actually, he was one of the hardest workers I've ever met in my life. He taught me about work ethic by his example. Dad was a great counselor. Although he never went to college, he was very wise and always seemed to know the right thing to say at the right time.

My dad was merciful and just. The times that I really saw him angry usually involved an injustice. He would often tell me that one of the things that ticked him off the most was seeing someone less fortunate being mistreated. Whether it was someone with a disability, physical or mental; or someone with less education being demeaned, dad was not one to laugh or remain silent when others were being harmed. He was ready to forgive when others wronged him, but you never wanted to mess with his family.

Dad was a great protector. One time a known child molester was walking down the alley behind our house. I had three little sisters and a little brother. Without much fuss, dad walked out to the man and said, "If I see you anywhere near here again, I'll kill you." We never saw the man again. My father was an honest man. And he expected honesty from his family. That doesn't mean, however, that he was beyond telling some tall tales. But the funny thing about it is we all knew when he was going down exaggeration road. And he knew we knew it.

Dad was genuine. What you saw, is what you got. No airs. No acting. No pretense. Dad was a good friend. His friends knew they could count on him. His word was his bond. If someone needed help, he was there.

Looking back, I know how blessed I was to have William Arthur Smith as my father. The problems we see in others during our youth will fade if we only mature enough to see the full picture. I do not want my memory to airbrush away the blemishes, however, I do want to remember the things I forgot and to have the things I overlooked revealed to me.

I have much to learn from the legacy left to me by my dad. I miss him on this Father's Day.

When I asked him to stand next to me at my wedding I thought he was filling in - that he was the substitute for the friend who would have been there. Now I know that he filled in so many ways in my life. I now realize that he wasn't a substitute, but the real thing. He truly was my best man and he still is.