Father, Dad, Pops, Daddy, PapPap

This man stood for something.

Many somethings.

Many someones.

He never drove past a broken down car,

or walked past a stranger who seemed to 

be in trouble or need help.

He was the first to shovel out the neighbors

who could not do it for themselves.

Sometimes it delayed a family 

vacation for  hours,

but we were told to understand 

why it mattered to him,

and to those he helped.

He believed that neighbors should be good

ones and he was always the first to plan 

and throw the block parties of summer.

He believed children should learn

 the honor of working hard

and to love God, country and family.

He never lied or cheated 

and he expected 

truth and decency from those he 

loved, worked with and for.

We did not always measure up 

to his high standards and were fearful

of the repercussions

but we were always forgiven

and always loved.

He was a man of honor and upon his 

death I discovered a box brimming with 

notes from strangers and friends

 he had helped over many years.

No one had known about most of them.

In our small town it was 

a privilege to be the "daughter of"

and also difficult to hide 

any shenanigans or bad behavior

because he was so well known.

I was frequently caught,

punished and learned lessons.

He taught me to fish and made me put the worm 

on the hook myself...every time

He taught me to run a table saw,

a drill, and a sander.

Long before Martha, he showed

me the proper way to iron a shirt

 and put a crease in pants.

I learned to paint walls, refinish furniture,

unclog a toilet and sink, cook, 

mop a floor the "Navy" way,

 mow the lawn, ride a bike, and sled down hill..fast 

We worked the garden together,

each summer we had one,

and I know how to build a proper campfire.

I learned to check the oil, drive a car,

pitch a tent in the right spot, and change a tire.

I was made to save 50% of my allowance,

tithe 10%, and balance my checkbook.

He never betrayed his wife,

his children, or family or friends.

Never.

When he faced his fourth cancer,

he decided to let his God decide

when he should go, and refused all treatment.

I cannot imagine anyone facing death with

less fear than he did.

He was certain what lay ahead and I believe 

he was anxious to see his mom and dad again.

You see Robert Rennie

was a quiet man of honor also

and he taught his children well.

One of them just happened to be my 

dad, David.

DJR

I love you