There’s a dying stereotype that says women do all the work around the house. Fortunately, I was brought up in a home where the chores were shared. Mom was home most of the time, and did the bulk of the child rearing and housework, but Dad was known for vacuuming and doing the dishes. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I’m married to such an awesome girl. Unfortunately, I haven’t quite lived up to expectations.
It was a few weeks before Dad passed away, right about this time two years ago. He was definitely slowing down. The cancer was wreaking havoc on his digestive system and he couldn’t hold down food. He was losing weight and getting weaker every day, both physically and mentally. We were going over to Mom and Dad’s to visit one evening. On the way there Lianne was telling the kids about Granddaddy, sharing stories with them about the type of man he was. She shared with them about how she always noticed Granddaddy vacuuming and doing the dishes whenever she came over to my house when we were dating. I think she exaggerated Dad’s exploits in an attempt to embarrass me, but there was definitely some truth to her memory.
She said that part of what attracted her to me was his work ethic and servant hood. She figured that if my Dad was such an awesome help around the house, then I’d probably turn out pretty well myself. We talked some more about Granddaddy as we pulled into the driveway and walked into the house. We were hoping Dad would be alert and feeling well enough for visitors. As we crossed the threshold into the hallway we could hear a vacuum cleaner running in the other room. We walked into the living room to see Dad, moving slowly, hunched over the vacuum cleaner, methodically vacuuming the carpet. I know he didn’t have any energy. I know he just wanted to rest. Mom tried to dissuade him, but he insisted on vacuuming. It was how he served. It was part of his calling. It was how he showed love. It didn’t matter how he felt. He wasn’t driven by his circumstances. He had an unstoppable calling to show love through service, and so, just a few weeks from his passing, he was vacuuming the living room.
Over the last few weeks I’ve made a concerted effort to do more around the house, but over the 21 years of our marriage, I can honestly say that my track record has been very inconsistent. I had a long day of meetings at work yesterday. When I came home Lianne prepared dinner and then left to take Davin to volleyball. I wanted to sit down and read, but the kitchen needed to be cleaned after dinner. I sat down with my book, and then I thought of Dad, thin and slow, but determinedly vacuuming. So I heroically stood up and marched into the kitchen to get to work.
Alas, I’m not a hero. My Dad was. I rarely make those good choices, but I’m moving toward a more loving place, and my memories of a great father and husband are helping me to get there.