Dear Dad,
After 42 years, I made a small payment on a debt
which I incurred one winter’s day when I was 12.
Perhaps you’ve forgotten about it, but I haven’t and
here is how I remember that Saturday in January.
Both my brothers skied, but neither shared my
insatiable passion for the sport, so you and I were
the only ones in the car on the two hour drive to
Antelope Butte Ski Area. Even though we weren’t
calving yet, I know there were better ways for you
to spend a Saturday, but while I skied, you
patiently waited in the lodge. (Using the term
“lodge” makes it sound like it was a mammoth log
structure with a huge rock fireplace and picture
window overlooking the slopes. In reality, in 1969
Antelope Butte’s lodge was the three-stall garage
for the snow-cats which doubled as a warming shed
and snack bar.) As usual, I skied all day, never
stopping for lunch. When the T-bar lift closed at
4:00pm, I stuffed my gear in the station wagon,
plopped in the front seat and drifted in and out of
sleep as we rattled down the mountain. Since I was
almost a teenager, I’m certain I added nothing to
the conversation on the entire two hour drive home
to the ranch…certainly no mention of gratitude.
Years later, when I became a dad and felt the
conflict between family, time and money, I’ve often
thought back to that Saturday when, without
hesitation or qualification, you gave me 10 hours of
your time. King David explains in 2 Samuel 24:24 he
will not offer a sacrifice “which costs me nothing”
and because we can always make more money, but can
never make more time, giving one’s time is the
biggest sacrifice a father can make. This debt of
one’s time can be paid both backward and forward and
two weeks ago, I had the chance to pay that Saturday
forward.
Druann and I, plus four of our running friends had
just completed a 12 mile, daybreak run along the
rims in Billings. It was a great morning and we just
walked in the house when Druann’s cell phone rang.
“Mom, I’m in a jam.” Meagan frantically began. “My
sitter is sick today, Michelle is busy moving back
to the base, Tim is in Virginia for two more weeks,
we admitted six new patients at work and I can find
no one to watch all five kids this afternoon.”
Druann listened quietly before saying “I’ll call you
back.” She looked at me and explained our daughter’s
phone call. “Great Falls is three hours away, so we
could be there by noon when Clara and Mae get home
from school. What do you think?”
“Well, Meagan wouldn’t have called unless she was
truly in a jam,” I offered as I thought back to that
Saturday 42 winters ago. “I am not on-call this
weekend and I don’t have to be at my speaking
engagement in Columbus until tomorrow at 4:00. Let’s
go.” In twenty-two minutes we showered, packed a
bag, ate a banana and hit the road.
So Dad, the ten hours you gave me has now been paid
forward to Tim, Meagan and their five mini-Kimmels.
I expect all seven will pay those same ten hours
forward or backward when the opportunity presents
itself, so the pyramid of giving of one’s time is
growing. See what you started?
Happy Father’s Day from your grateful son,
Kray
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