Losing My Dad

The title of my blog, "Learning to Know Better," is the title to a book written by my dad, J. Thomas Dean.  The book was never finished.  My dad passed away on October 10, 2008.  But in this title, I have found direction.  

The book was never finished, which is regrettable, but perhaps appropriate because there should be no end to learning to know better.  Where did he get the title?  My daughter, his grand daughter, held a special place in his heart.  He admired her spunk.  He never knew what she would say or do next, and this captivated him.  My father was a great storyteller, and Chloe became the focus of many of those stories after her birth in 2002.  "Chloe Stories," he called them.  People loved hearing my dad tell a story.  "Do you have any new Chloe stories?" they would ask.  They knew this was a subject that usually got him telling, and enthusiastically so.  

When Chloe was 4 years old in 2006, my mom and dad visited us in our new home in Savannah, GA.  My dad was sitting on our back patio enjoying the beautiful weather and scenery, reading the sports pages of the local newspaper as Chloe played with her grandmother.  He could see there was a small battle of wills going on between them.  A few minutes later Chloe quietly walked over to him and whispered in his ear, "Grandpa, you need to teach Grammy to learn to know better."  Suppressing laughter, he responded, "I'll do my best."  He loved to tell that story, with much detail and build up and laughter in the telling.  

In the introduction he wrote to his book, my dad discusses a more thoughtful interpretation to that story.  He said since that day he had thought about Chloe's statement many times.  He thought about the fact that in this life we are all on a quest to "learn to know better."  We all make mistakes, but hopefully we learn from them.  We learn as we go, from the day we are born, to the day we say our final goodbyes to friends and family and leave this world.  

My dad left this world two weeks ago.  He leaves me with many lessons and rules on living that I will always remember.  In his life lessons, he learned to value loyalty, determination, honesty, commitment to community, humor, celebration of life and loved ones, humility, and of course, a positive attitude.  He learned to focus on the littlest ones, like his "good friend" Chloe.  He learned to get down on her level, to really listen, to pay attention to her words and her feelings, to appreciate and value her, to listen to her little words and extract the highest meaning and philosophy from them.  My dad learned to know better.  I will carry this legacy in my heart.  I will learn to value the simple.  Pay attention to the pure and innocent of heart.  Take time to listen to a child's thoughts and notice the subtle wit and wisdom.  

Take time to be the only adult to accept a pink lemonade drink from a 5 year old child on Thanksgiving day.  The rest of the grownups have refused the child's thoughtful efforts, one by one, almost as a nuisance, being caught up in the swirl of dinner preparations, adult laughter and chatter to pay attention.  "Yes, I think I will. Thank you, Chloe," my dad says, extracting himself from adult holiday fanfare.  Chloe's quiet satisfaction filled the room, and the perfect connection of understanding and love between grandfather and granddaughter was palpable.  She had contributed to the day.  When that child returns later in the evening to collect a small fee for the lemonade, you may say, "I'm sorry, Chloe, I only have 23 cents."  The child may say sincerely, "That's okay Grandpa.  You're old ... and you've had surgery."  If you have learned to love life the way J. Thomas Dean did, this may give you many days and hours of laughter and storytelling for years to come. 

I see that perhaps the greatest lesson my dad learned was to value the little ones; those with a small voice, with little power, and with little influence.  In that smallness he discovered greatness.  In his own humility, he found great joy and reward.  In his life's quest "Learning to Know Better," he discovered great love.