On Father’s Day, give your dad the flowers ‘while he can still smell them’ | Opinion

There is a saying about “giving someone their flowers while they can still smell them.” This sentiment is encouragement to not wait until someone has passed before telling them how much they mean to you. It is exactly what I plan to do with my father who continues to play an essential role in my life.

I’m fortunate to have boundless positive memories where my dad was front and center. Little nuances of his have been scattershot into my personality and behaviors through the years. I am the apple who fell but a mere foot or two away from his deeply rooted tree.

A memory which carved a permanent residence in my brain takes me back to elementary school age. It was a dreary, rain sputtering Sunday and dad needed to do some work prior to the week ahead. I managed to accompany him to his office which was in a beautiful old farmhouse in Versailles. His office I now presume was the old family room with its floor to ceiling windows and shuttered fireplace.

While working on my own homework I looked up at him at that oversized cherry colored desk, a cigar in hand, carefully reviewing mountains of documents. This was my first exposure to seeing my dad in his work environment. It was out of the ordinary for me, which I’m sure is why it remains so embedded in my brain. I watched as he scribbled notes on his legal pad and sipped coffee from a Styrofoam cup. I was mesmerized.

His tenacious work ethic seeped into all three of his children, teaching us that we must labor diligently in our endeavors. He reminded us that nothing was given, but that we must earn everything and put forth effort. A lesson I’m assuming his parents passed on to him while growing up on a functioning west Kentucky farm.

Another memory which often creeps to mind is his driving lesson. As most parents can attest, this life-or-death episode tends to have a searing effect. We started out meager enough, practicing in the Franklin County High School parking lot. I worked on parallel parking and making smooth turns as my dad smiled in the passenger seat appearing at ease.

We ventured onto a busy Versailles Road and while my nerves were raised, I remained focused with his encouragement. He told me to make a turn, so I veered and suddenly realized what was quickly approaching. He put a frazzled 16-year-old on I-64 and told him to speed up to what felt like Mach 1. As I looked over my shoulder to merge onto the interstate, I turned my body and my hands which were on the wheel followed that direction too. My dad’s massive, reassuring hand grabbed the wheel to keep us from crossing multiple lanes and ending our driving lesson.

At 16 I could not believe he thought that was a good idea. In retrospect he was putting me in a position to learn. I absorbed more from that near death experience than a hundred circles in the high school parking lot. I have numerous stories of dad putting his children in difficult, yet extremely valuable situations. He did the best he could to prepare us for what we might face in the future, setting the table for us to fully understand the challenges and obstacles ahead.

As my dad looks back on his three grown children, he doesn’t have to question if they were underprepared to enter adulthood. We may not have agreed or liked the dose of reality he offered, but we needed his guidance and guard-rails.

I penned a column five years ago heralding the love and admiration I had for my dad. I included in it very particular ways he had molded my beliefs and behaviors. I could effortlessly offer another 1000 words on ways he succeeded in fatherhood. Because I believe he has earned the right to hear his children’s praise, I’ll continue to try and give him his flowers any chance I get.

Jim Jackson resides in Franklin County. He can be reached by email at jackson.m.jim@gmail.com.

This story was originally published June 16, 2023 at 1:14 PM.