To the first man I ever loved...

Today is Dad's birthday. We'll call it his 50-something birthday; at this stage of the game, who's really keeping count anyway? It is not any kind of special birthday. It is certainly not the big 5-0 (been there, done that). And, Dad is still several years away from the big 6-0. Despite being a rather uneventful kind of birthday, I still find myself in a reflective spirit of mind. Perhaps because several years ago, on the chilly winter nights of a frightful February, I often lay awake in bed wondering if Dad would live to see the next day, much less the next year. God was gracious with me-- with all of us-- in sparing his life. If I live to be 100 I will never understand the workings of such heavenly grace. But, that is another story for another time.


This is a story about how much I admire, appreciate, love, and respect Dad. For 24 years I have lived under the shadow of a man who, in my humble opinion, is one of the greatest men I have ever known. Almost twenty years ago Dad knelt beside my bed with me and helped me begin my spiritual journey with Christ. Could a father give a greater gift to a daughter? Not only did Dad pray with me that evening 20 years ago, he has prayed with me and for me countless times since then. He has encouraged me through his own actions-- his decisions to love his family, to remain faithful to his wife for 28 years, to care for others, and to spend his resources wisely.

One evening, early last spring, Dad and I were returning from dinner out at a local Chinese restaurant we often frequented. As we pulled into the driveway I was overcome by so many visual implications of his generosity-- the dinner out, a car to drive me home in, a roof over my head, and so on. I turned to Dad and thanked him, briefly, for his generosity-- for the many physical provisions he had made for me; for our family. I will never forget his response. He smiled thoughtfully for several moments--then pulled the car into the garage, and turned to look at me, "Well, you know what they say." I asked him what they said. "I've never seen a U-Haul following a Hearst."

Such is the nature of Dad's heart-- a heart that gives generously, that cares deeply, and that empathizes readily. Oh reader, if I can be even half the woman of the kind of man he has been, I will feel grateful.

There is a special scene in one of the Harry Potter books in which a character, Dobby, and the protagonist, Harry Potter, talk about Harry's loyalty to another character, Dumbledore, a person of great integrity and fathomless wisdom. The scene reads, as follows:

"Dumbledore trusts Severus, and that ought to be good enough for all of us... It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore's judgment. I do; therefore I trust Severus."

"But if I keep running in and out of the Ministry," said Harry, endeavoring still to keep his voice friendly, "won't that seem as though I approve of what the Ministry is doing?"

"I see you are--"
"Dumbledore's man through and through," said Harry. "That's right."

And, I am Charles Dewayne's "man" through and through. I trust him implicitly, and admire him more than I could describe in words. I am privileged to be his daughter. Happy, happy birthday, dear Dad! I love you , as always, past the heavens.