Meshugge for my Mashiach

Through Daddy's Eyes

Today is my father's birthday. As I was writing him an e-mail, I began to think about the subtle and unspoken ways in which his personality affects my view of people. I have realized that many of the qualities I value and hold dear in guys especially are qualities that I have grown up seeing in this man.

My dad is sort of a mystery to me, I must confess. He has travelled and lived in places I haven't even dreamt of going, teaching vet medicine, showing governments how to set up their animal vaccination programs, and working with the International Atomic Energy Agency's (IAEA) Animal Sciences division as an "expert" scientist to help develop safe nuclear vaccinations for animals.

I grew up in what you might call the Nigerian version of a surburb, yet we had a farm stretching out behind our bungalow. There, under the hot sun, me and my siblings and whichever relative happened to be living with us at the time tilled the land into rows, hand planted corn and beans, peppers, yams. When the corn was almost knee high we were out there pulling weeds that were growing and taking the nutrition from the corn. When it was grown over our heads and ripe, in addition to playing hide and seek, we were out there picking corn, shucking corn, roasting corn.
Throughout this time, my dad was a professor of vet medicine, and when his academic day was over, his farm day began. We also had a chicken house and goats. I remember him as a carpenter, making a long couch we had in our living room for years, cutting tree stumps to fashion a rugged parlor outside under the shade of a tree for hot summer afternoons. He designed the house we are now building back home, and has changed and added so many things that I don't even know what it looks like anymore. His hands are never idle, yet, with a leisurely gait and unassuming manner, he never seems rushed, or haggard, or panicked.
I have never seen anyone as comfortable with so many different and unrelated areas of expertise. I grew up reading the novels he read, including John Grisham, a former lawyer-turned-writer. He helped me with math, discussed history, told stories of our people. His friends call him "Chief", and if there ever was an issue in the community, they came knocking at his door, to hear what he had to say.
He cooks, and enjoys it. He buys me clothes that not only fit, but that I actually like. He has an impressive eye for elegant jewelry, and knows who are the best perfume makers. Once, when he was in Egypt, he had my mom's name inscribed on a pendant... in hieroglyphics.

Despite all this, my dad is a simple man. If he walked past you on a normal day, except for his vibrant eyes and ready smile, you could not perceive the depth of his experience, of his knowledge, and especially, of his wisdom. He is passionate when speaking about the things that matter most to him. When he laughs, he laughs with a mirth that is contagious, and refreshing. And to me, that simplicity adds an intangible quality that is at once puzzling and very attractive.

Is my dad perfect? Far from it. But his generous spirit, his curious wisdom, his determination to provide for his family, and his laid back, easy going, simple trust have created such pleasing goggles for me to look through, both to try and emulate, and to look for in any man that would lay claim to my heart.

And it is that generous intimacy, that puzzling simplicity, in light of his vast array of unquenchable wisdom, unfathomable might, and glorious majesty, that draws my heart closer to Abba's bosom when, in his mercy, he turns his countenance, his likeness, his face, towards me.

posted by Handmaiden @ 3:59 pm