~advice~

Some of the best advice my father gave me came when I was starting high school and had brought up the subject of cosmetics.  I don't even know how the father-daughter conversation began  that evening, but I suppose I must have been talking about spending some of my hard earned money at the counter of the local drugstore in town.  My dad looked at me and with a smile on his face said the sweetest of things to his little girl.

"Peggy Ann, you don't need to be wearing makeup.  You are a pretty enough girl without it."

And you know what?  For some reason I believed him that night and never once have I  worn any makeup.  I can't imagine how many thousands of dollars I have saved over the years or how many hours of time I've been able to give to doing other things instead of standing in front of the mirror in the mornings.  The truth is that if I did try to wear makeup now, I'd probably feel a little silly.  So I think I'll just stick to my father's advice and coast through the rest of life without it.

My father gave me plenty of good advice in the short 27 years that I was able to be with him.  Some of it I listened to, and sadly a few things I didn't.  As I think back now, especially to the subject of my wanting to start wearing makeup as a young Kansas girl back in the early 1970's, a great deal of the advice he counseled me on revolved around the subject of imperfections.  In my life, especially in the days of my youth, there seemed to be plenty of them.

My height is 5'.  There was a never a time that I was tall and then woke up all of a sudden short one day.  I was born short and I will die that way.  I can remember my father sitting at the counter of our cafe in Haven watching me as I waited tables while I was only 14 years old.  I'd get discouraged, unable to reach things on shelves that others could easily walk up to and grab what they needed.  Dad would encourage me to find a way to get what I was after and usually I would do just that.  John Scott, Jr.  was not a hovering parent, rather he was one who understood that the best way to help his daughter was to teach her how to help herself.  Through those early experiences, I've learned a few things and one of them is this.

Being short is definitely not the worst thing that can happen to you in life.

Dad's advice was given randomly as the need arose.  He admonished me to never let the gas tank register below half full and I truly wish I would have remembered that a couple hundred  times ago.  He told me to never sell myself short, that there were things I would do quite well at in the years ahead of me.  My father taught me how to be kind and considerate, not only by his words but by his actions towards others in life.  And the list could go on and on and on.

Come this December 11th, it shall be 36 years since he imparted his last bit of counsel to me. As I type these words, I realize just how much I miss that these days.  Times are not easy for any of us, his little girl included.  Many decisions need to be made in the next few months before Mike and I leave this part of the world and head home towards Kansas.  I wish sometimes that I could sit down at the kitchen table with Dad once again and ask him what to do about certain things.  Perhaps any of you reading this who have already lost a parent or both of your folks for that matter, will understand.  

It feels strange right now to find myself 63 years old.  I've lived 4 years beyond the age that my dad was when he passed away of lung cancer in 1982.  So much has happened to me in the 36 years that went by.  I hope I have made my dad proud of me in everything that I have done.  I still worry some about my imperfections but I don't dwell on them every single day.  I remember the life lessons that he taught me and for that I shall always remain beholden to him.

And one thing is certain.
If you know me, then you know my father.
Thanks Dad and see you in Heaven some day.

I shall always be this man's little girl.