Wise Words for Father’s Day
Jared and I were talking about fireworks the other day. Â Apparently you can get them in Korea.
“Only little ones, though,” he said. Â “Nothing too crazy.”
“Any firework can be dangerous in the wrong hands,” I said.
“That sounds like something your dad would say,” he said.
He was right. Â I had channeled my dad without realizing it. Â Every year on the 4th of July, we lit off fireworks on the driveway as soon as the sky was dark enough. Â Or, I should say, my dad lit the fireworks while shouting, “Back, get back!” Â at his three girls. Â Later he allowed us to play with sparklers, but not before a brief lecture about eye safety.
In honor of Father’s Day, I thought about what else I learned from my dad that I still carry with me today. Â There was all the normal stuff: Â Wear a seat bealt, family comes first, and follow your dreams – Â but here are a few other nuggets of advice that stuck with me.
1. Â Know how to change a tire.
When I got my first car, a 1993 Geo Prizm, my dad wouldn’t let me drive it right away. Â I had to follow him to the driveway, where I was given a detailed tutorial on how to remove and re-attach a tire. Â When I had finished, I stood up proudly.
“Can I have the keys?” Â I asked.
“No,” he said. Â “Do it again.”
And again. Â I was not going anywhere until I could stand in for a member of the pit crew at the Indy 500. Â I rolled my eyes and completed his tire-changing drills until he was satisfied.
Within a month, I had my first flat tire, climbing up the 79th street hill just past Fall Creek. Â Two men stopped to help me, and each time I waved them away.
“I got it,” I said. Â “My dad taught me how.”
2. Â Things are just things.Â
In the first year of driving, I got into a minor car accident with this same Geo Prizm. Â Twice. Â No one was hurt but the car. Â I took the dents very seriously, as if it were a brand-new Dodge Viper (my dream car at the time).

“Your car is just a thing,” my dad told me. Â “Never value a thing so much that you are afraid to lose it. Â People are always more important than things.”
I tried to remind him of this when he was showing me the features of his new iPhone on Skype.
“Really?” Â he frowned. Â “I said that? Â I don’t remember.”
3. You have nothing if you don’t have your health.
Like many teenagers, I was invincible when I was young. Â My particular superpower was the ability to lay out in the sun for hours on end without being at risk of skin cancer. Â Or so I thought.
Several years ago, my dad was diagnosed with adult diabetes. Â It was a reality check for him, and he was forced to take a closer look at his diet and exercise habits.
“Your health is the most important thing,” he said. Â “If you don’t have your health, you have nothing.”
He was referring specifically to preventable health problems – the ones we have control over, but choose to ignore. Â The lifestyle decisions we make when we are young that don’t manifest themselves until we are older.
I realized that the consequences of a tan vastly trumped the fleeting benefits. Â I stopped laying out. Â I retreated to the shade. Â And, following the immortal words of Mary Schmich and Baz Luhrmann, I do wear sunscreen.
4. Â Do you have insurance?
My dad’s obsession with health insurance is a running joke in my family. Â His biggest fear is that something will happen while I am on a visit to the US, because I have no health care there.
“Be careful,” he’ll say, as I go out to get the mail. Â “Remember, you don’t have insurance.”
In 2007, I was in Indiana for 3 weeks between living in New Zealand and England. Â My parents had put some things in storage, and I wanted to see if there was anything I wanted to salvage before it was thrown away.
“What about this?” Â My dad said, reaching for a large, square speaker from my old stereo system.
Suddenly, the speaker slid off the top shelf and plummeted to the ground, landing point-first on my head. Â I staggered. Â My dad went white. Â My mom looked at the wound.
“Let’s go to the emergency room,” she said.
My dad drove, gripping the steering wheel.  I could imagine the thoughts racing through his head:  Noinsurancenoinsurancenoinsurance.
The receptionist held out a clipboard. Â “Do you have insurance?” Â she asked.
“No,” I said.
Her hand wavered. Â The clipboard withdrew slightly. Â “No? Â How will you pay?”
“Credit card,” I said.
The friendly doctor cleaned my wound and administered a tetanus shot.
“That’s a pretty nasty cut,” he said. Â “So you don’t have insurance, is that right?”
“Right,” I said.
“I’d really like to put you through a CAT scan,” he said. Â “Just to make sure there are no fractures on the skull.”
Something about the image of fractures on his daughter’s skull spurred my dad into action.
“Yes,” he said. Â “Do the CAT scan.”
It wasn’t cheap. Â My dad insisted on paying for the cost of the emergency room visit because he felt responsible for the incident.
“I’m just glad you’re ok,” he said. Â “But please, get insurance.”
5. Â Stay away from heights.
There is a home movie that sums up my dad’s feelings about heights. Â It is shot from the observation deck of the St. Augustine lighthouse. Â My dad pressed his back up against the center wall and inched his way around the balcony. Â The footage is shaky, comprised of streaky trees, ragged breathing, and shouts anytime my sisters and I got too careless near the railing. Â Simply put, he doesn’t do heights and he doesn’t want us to, either.
When I went overseas by myself for the first time, my dad gave me a card with 10 pieces of fatherly advice. Â The only one I can remember now is #10: Â Stay away from tall cliffs. Â We had seen a documentary about steep cliffs in Ireland and the sheep that regularly tumbled off of them.
I e-mailed him this photo:

He was unimpressed. Â As he was a few years later when I went skydiving in Australia. Â And bungy jumping in New Zealand.
Today is Father’s Day in the US, and once again I am absent.  So, Dad, I wanted to give you some peace of mind:  I don’t have a car, but if I did, I could still change the tire in record speed.  I wear sunscreen and eat my vegetables, and  Korea gives me health insurance.  Most importantly, I stayed on solid ground all day and have no plans to do anything dangerous.  At least not in the near future.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad – If you have any advice, I’m always ready for it.
Love it!
Thanks Robyn! Hope you, Jeremy and Annie had a good Father’s Day!