Within the last week I made the time to clean, I mean really clean, my office. No this post is not going to be about cleaning my office. However some items I found while purging through 20 years of accumulated stuff caused me to reflect on my father's sense of humor.
Kirk Hartnett had a wicked, dry sense of humor. Our family has always been big on story-telling, especially telling stories about each other. We have some fabulous stories about Dad and the stunts he would pull. While cleaning through my office this week, I found a life-sized poster of Dad in his deputy's uniform that he gave my husband. In the back of a desk drawer, I found a tiny "review mirror" to be clipped onto one's eye glasses. He loaned that mirror to me so I could convince my students I had eyes in the back of my head. Two years ago, with dad's plan and advice, I hid a cordless speaker in a colleague's classroom and then played Christmas music at random times throughout the day, interrupting her class. He would torture my brother Jake with the TV's volume via the remote. He loved pulling one over on a friend, a son, or a son-in-law.
Growing up, as most daughters do, I saw my dad as a bigger-than-life hero! As the teen years and college day rolled around, I saw him as blending of John Wayne and George Patton. He was not a saint. in fact he could be very hard headed and encouraged and expected the best from all of us. His temper could be quick, sharp, direct, then short lived when dealing with us kids. He was not terribly social, and he and I clashed often these last ten years as we each called the other out on what we perceived as rude behavior. Kirk was certainly the patriarch of our family. Mom, Jake, and I have referred to him as "Mr. Good News" and "Himself" throughout the years, as he could be very definite in his opinions and views on how things should be done. He had a "it's my way of the highway" motto; one my brother swears I have inherited.
Kirk had a softer side that many didn't always see, and that he didn't share easily. He loved the beauty of nature; the old time flowers, dew first thing in the morning, a whippoorwill's or quail's call, a new born calf standing for the first time, a storm rolling in from the southwest, seeing eagles on the drive to church. He truly enjoyed his grandchildren and was a good listener and sounding board for each one as they grew to adulthood. His softest, most gentle side was saved for Mom. Our "golden rule": never make mom cry.
With Father's Day coming up on Sunday, I have been mentally working on a post for the occasion, but have been struggling with how to approach it. Regardless of our relationships with our fathers, each father is a very important corner stone of our own foundation as a person. Very few of us had a Mike Brady or a Ward Cleaver for a dad. We had, as fathers, human beings, men who were doing the absolute best they could to fill a demanding role, that of someone's father.
Fatherhood looks very different today than it did 100 years ago, fifty years or even 20 years ago. Families look different, but that does not demean the role a father has in the life of his children. Father's Day is a day to honor and appreciate our fathers. This is usually done with gifts, bar-b-cues, family time, and hopefully love and appreciation.
A father's influence does not include one generation, but filters down through generations, leaving a family legacy. My dad was a third generation member of the Kansas City Board of Trade, following the example of his grandfather John Hartnett and father Dris Hartnett. Dad worked in the grain business most of his adult life, started out at ground level and working his way up to be general manager of the Fredonia ADM plant.
Dad was a hunter and a fisherman, as was his father. Dad's passion for archery and deer hunting was stronger than Dris's, and that passion has been passed onto my generation and my children's generation. My memories of Grandpa John are of a quiet, stern man, and both Dris and my dad, Kirk, could be the same. As my children can attest to, I can be rather stern. Kirk had a very strong moral compass and expected everyone he dealt with to have the same. A high school friend of mine referred to dad as "the last honest American". My brother Jake, my three children, and I have that same corner stone in our foundation.
Kirk was fair. Whether it was a business deal, a child raising issue, or welcoming a child's new spouse to the family, dad was fair. My husband, Keith, was not a rancher, hunter, small town, country boy when we married. In fact he was very different than the rest of us, and that was his charm. My dad worked very hard to get to know Keith, even though "he dressed funny". These two men forged a very close and solid friendship, a unique relationship of jokes, sharing dreams, outdoor channel marathons, hunting, advice, and companionship. Dad set another stone in the family foundation, and I see that stone in Keith when we are loudly discussing politics or starting a big household project.
The 11:00 a.m. Mass this Sunday at our parish is being said for Kirk, and I will be thinking of him as we pray, sing the hymns, and honor all fathers. I am sure that there will be a glass or two raised in his name that afternoon, and there will be stories shared and laughed over. This is the first Father's Day that I won't be calling Daddy, or sending a card, but I have many reasons to celebrate the day. My husband is an amazing father to our three children! My dad left a wonderful legacy of true fatherhood to his children and grandchildren. Future generations will exhibit the traits and values Kirk held dear, and they will know and share the stories.
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