I was sitting in church on Father’s Day morning and got to thinking about Dad and the lessons in life he shared with me. Some would say he taught me, and he did, but he also shared life with me. He shared with me how to live life and do many of the mundane stuff we face every day. This might be as simple as how to make a cup of coffee or even season it with cream and sugar. Or how to fry up some homemade pancakes or kill a chicken and pluck the feathers. He shared his life skills.

When I came along, Dad was in the midst of working on our house. There were two bedrooms along the north side of the house and just south of that was kind of an open unfinished section, maybe 15 feet wide running the width of the house. There was a lot of carpentry work that needed done so as Dad did the remodeling I helped as much as a kid could, but I watched. Dad shared how to plaster and drive nails and roof with wooden shingles.

But at the same time, there always were cattle issues. There were times when an old cow couldn’t have her calf so Dad would help pull the calf. I watched and helped. At times it wasn’t the most pleasant picture or smelled like perfume but it was life skills that he shared. At times a cow or calf would get sick and need a shot. Most Herefords like the ones Dad raised had horns so they had to be dealt with. At times this was bloody but that’s part of life.

Every now and then, Mom and Dad would decide to get a new car. I can’t remember Dad ever getting a new pickup. Before Dad decided on a certain car or even looked/ he’d drive down to Keystone to the Bank and talk to the banker. At times/ he’d take me in with him. He’d introduce me to the banker/ and then Dad would talk about a new car. Normally the banker said go ahead and write a check and then come in/ and they’d work out the details. It was a life -shared moment.

I was probably 8 or 9 when Dad took me fishing with both of us wading. He showed me kind of how to wade and how to cast and even where to cast. I am not the bravest of souls when it comes to water. Never learned how to swim. Mick and I took swimming lessons and talked Mom into letting us quit. As I was wading/ I looked down at the water and it appeared like I was falling face down into the water. Dad got me to look ahead at the rushes and the moss and have a view that included the sky meeting the land. I doubt he had experienced the fear I was feeling, but he shared like he had. He shared this experience with me.

I remember Dad taking the carburetor off one of the International C’s or the cub and tearing it all apart. Way too many pieces and all of them had to fit just right or be adjusted correctly. I watched him tear it apart, put the new carburetor kit in and get it back on the tractor. Fast forward 50 years. I’ve taken the carburetor off a Ferguson TO 20 and a TO30 and a Massey 135 thinking I can do this. There aren’t that many pieces! The only adjustment that was critical was the float assembly that controlled the needle valve. Dad shared the experience of rebuilding a carburetor with a kid that resulted in life-changing consequences.

I hear a lot of talk about shop class in the high schools, which was really beneficial for me. We learned how to draw or draft layouts as they should along with some wood building skills. But what prepared me for life, for all the variables that come along, was parents that shared their lives with their children, not just as a teacher, but as a loving parent.

Phillips began life as a cowboy, then husband and father, carpenter, a minister, gardener and writer. He may be reached at phillipsrb@hotmail.com.