- Through his father’s labor, outdoor columnist Ben Smith says he got to hunt, fish and play ball. His Dad never asked for recognition because Dads don’t ask for that stuff, they provide.
Father’s Day is often a holiday that gets overlooked. A quick internet search into its popularity is solid proof because everything on the internet is true. Barely cracking the top ten of American holidays, it even falls behind Halloween. Mother’s Day, on the other hand, is a top five celebrated holiday in the U.S., and rightfully so. Without your momma you wouldn’t be here today. Then again, without your dad you wouldn’t be here today, either, so I’m not sure what gives. But to be ranked behind Halloween in every single poll that I could find just felt like a slap in the face.
Being a dad is among the greatest gifts that I’ve ever received. Although, I certainly fall short of being all I can be when it comes to fatherhood, it’s been more rewarding that I ever could have imagined. After seeing the poll results for where Father’s Day stood, I began to ponder reasons why children don’t celebrate their fathers. We got up on Sunday and went to church and I noticed a stark difference in the level of attendance versus the Mother’s Day service. The church seemed half empty, and aside from the “Donuts for Dad” push, there was little excitement. The line for families to take Father’s Day pictures only had a couple of families waiting. On Mother’s Day the line practically went out the door. And as I sat in the service listening to the sermon, my mind wandered as it often does.
I was burdened by the fact that more dads didn’t take their families to church. I don’t mean that to sound like I’m some “holier than thou” person because if you ask my kids they’ll tell you that I fall short here, too. My wife is one hundred percent the straw that stirs the drink on Sunday morning. She’s the one that makes sure the girls are up and at ‘em on Sunday morning while I often drag to get my body going. And that’s wrong. Dads should absolutely be the ones leading the charge to church on Sunday morning. Being a former baseball guy, I love statistics, and the statistics are clear that if the father of the household doesn’t lead the family spiritually then the children are unlikely to have a relationship with Christ. Obviously, that’s not always the case, but the numbers are overwhelmingly in favor of that theory.
After church, I noticed something else. There wasn’t nearly the buzz on social media for Father’s Day as many other celebrated days. As a regular social media poster, I myself didn’t post anything about my old man on Sunday. But the longer the day went on, another thought dawned on me. Dads don’t get the shiny posts, the gifts (disclaimer: I got some really cool gifts from my girls), the photos, and the love that other holidays get and that’s okay, because they can handle it.
I started thinking about my dad that afternoon and how appreciative I am for him. I’ve never really written much about him, and I think it’s partly because I don’t believe I could ever write enough to do him justice for all he’s sacrificed for me. Most wouldn’t know it, but my dad is largely responsible for this column that I’ve had the pleasure of writing for five years. He was the first to encourage me to write about my love of the outdoors. He’s not perfect by any stretch, and we still argue plenty about some of the pettiest stuff you can imagine, but the one thing I absolutely appreciate about my father is that he sacrificed in ways that I’m not sure I ever could.
I’ve mentioned several other people and how they impacted my love of the outdoors over the years, but rarely my dad. The truth is that without him I’d never have acquired the love for all things outdoors that I have. I’m not sure that I would classify him as an outdoorsman. He doesn’t hunt, rarely ever goes fishing anymore, and his camping days are absolutely done for. There was a time when he did those things, but having a family changed that. You see, Dad probably cut out a lot of outdoors things that he enjoyed to work a job that he probably didn’t like. He did it because that’s what a father does, he provides.
I can still remember my dad’s bass boat in our carport when I was a kid. When he was gone to work, I’d hop up in the boat and pretend we were fishing. Unfortunately, I don’t recollect actually doing much fishing in that boat. Dad would work all week and usually had some sort of yard work he’d have to do on the weekends. I do remember some camping trips when I was little, but those became fewer as I got older. But I also knew that he left the house well before I even got up in the morning and didn’t get home until well after 5:00 each day, so I understood. He was providing a life for myself and my sister to where we didn’t have to do those things in our lives.
Since I’m on the topic of holidays, I’ll never forget the best physical gift my dad gave me. It was Christmas and I was ten years old. I’d opened a couple of gifts under the tree, but one little box remained. It was one of those cardboard type of jewelry boxes that a necklace would come in. I opened it up and there was a bullet in the box with a note that read, “The rest of this gift is in the closet.” I ran down the hall to my parent’s bedroom to find a Remington .243 rifle sitting in the corner of the closet with a bow on it. It was beautiful with a dark woodgrain stock and equipped with a scope. I still have the rifle today and use it from time to time. Even though Dad didn’t hunt anymore, he provided me with a way that I could.
For years to come, Dad continued to work his butt off providing for our family. He provided a way for us to go to college. He provided a way for us enjoy our lives in ways that he didn’t get to. Through his labor, I got to hunt and fish and play ball. And he never asked for a holiday or recognition. Because dads don’t ask for that stuff, they provide.
Ben Smith
