A Marvelous Example

Well, I'm going to embarrass someone again.  No, I'm not going to spill family secrets (I can hear you saying "Darn it!"), or tell about the juicy stuff on a person.  Instead, I'm just gonna talk about someone I admire again.

You see, today's my father's 75th birthday.

Michael M. (Mike) Fisher has been a beacon of love and patience for as long as I can remember.  The fact that my sister and I are still alive is a testament to this.  Whenever we would be on the receiving lectures as children, he would always say one thing that we would be sure of - and be sure to disagree with - "Now I'm not that smart . . ." Both Diana and I thought (and still do) that Dad's the wisest person on the planet.

Think we're prejudiced?  Well, we could be.  But we have some nice-sized evidence in our favor.  Mom and Dad had a Bible Study for youth in their home for thirteen years.  It ended only when it was thought Dad was dying.  (That's another story, and thankfully, it didn't happen.)  That was in 1978.  Do the math.  Thirty-one years ago.  To this day, people who went to that study will occasionally call up the folks when they are having problems.  They want to know what Mike and Tomi Sue think.

On two different nights a week, Dad meets with young men from our church.  Both times, the young men approached him.  Each of these men is young enough to be his grandson.  Yet they don't see him as that 'old man,' but someone whose opinion they respect.

Dad spent most of his life at the Oklahoma National Stockyards.  When someone from there passed away, nine times out of ten, he was asked to do the funeral.    He was dubbed "The Parson of Packingtown" by a funeral director, a badge he wore with honor.

Dad's great loves are God, his country, and his family.  If you ever want to see what true love looks like, ask Dad about my mother and watch his eyes.  It's like Romeo on ether.  They've been married for fifty-one years, and they are still the perfect example of what love is.  He doesn't call Mom his wife, but his bride.  That may not seem like much to some people, but stop for a moment and think about it.

He's an avid historian, dealing with the Civil War and World War II.  He could write scores of works on either one.  Dad scoffs at that notion, thinking that tasks like that are best left to people such as Shelby Foote and Stephen Ambrose.  When he did write, he and his friend Joe Jared decided to co-author a historical devotional.  That is what Dad decided his forte should be, and it is something that men such as Foote and Ambrose could not have written . . . but Dad and Joe did.

To Diana, he will always be Daddy.  To me, he's Pop or Dad.  He'll always be my best friend.  To Mom, he'll be her best friend and spouse.  To others he's a shining example of what a good Christian and human being should be.

I wish I had his energy and I thank you ever so much for being my father.

Happy Birthday, Dad.