My father: I.B. Ray Brumbaugh.

A Year Ago

My father, Ray Brumbaugh, passed away a year ago. He was 93. Later today my siblings and I are going to talk via telephone. We remember my father for what he was, how he lived, the gifts that he gave, his kindnesses and helpfulness. His tender heart. I’ve thought a lot about his life. He was a farmer with a high school education, but he was a man who lived his life well.

Of course, Dad didn’t see it that way. He did the job, and he did it well. He picked a good wife, who also did it well. He gave, and she gave. They both gave of themselves to make the marriage work. She was eighteen and he was twenty-one when they married. Soon after, he entered the Naval Reserves. Us kids came along at about the same time. All five of us kids made a full and busy life. We were all loved and cherished.

Work Comes First

Dad taught us to work hard, and we did. He expected us to do our best, and we learned to do a job well. I think we worked hard, at least it seemed that way to me. But I didn’t question it. He kept a log of our work, which we were paid at the end of the season…into the bank account. When Dad complimented our work or something we did, we knew we had earned it. He was a man of few words back in the day, but those words mattered. He was growing more than crops and trees, he was growing us to be careful, cautious, gracious, and capable adults.

You don’t give your parents a lot of thought when you are growing up. But later on, you realize what they gave you. I remember talking to my dad near the end of his life. He sat there thinking over his life. He said, “We had hard times and good times, and many hills to climb, but it’s been a good life.” Then he got serious and quiet. His voice hushed, and he went on say, “except for Lois.” He shook his head and his grief was still live. He looked at me. We both were quiet, saying nothing. He could never mention Lois after she left us (Check my posts in Sept./or with her name).

Here’s Where His Wisdom Took Root

Dad was a great man for telling stories with meanings. He caught the interesting things that people don’t notice. That is something I share from my dad. He paid attention to the reason for the why you did the thing, not just doing the thing. He was a teacher, besides being a father I learned a lot from. I learned to give something, whatever it was, my best effort. I learned to not give up even when it’s hard. I learned to try my best, and then some. I learned to listen before speaking (and this wasn’t easy for me), and to consider my words before speaking.

I’ve thought a lot about my dad. There are many words I could use to describe him (kind, helpful, hard working, giving, careful in speech, truthful, loving, handsome, brave, and so forth). But there is one word I think says it best. Honor. My did lived his life with honor. He was an honorable man. He just was honorable. He didn’t try to be that way, he just was that way. When he said something, he meant it. He wouldn’t say something unless it was worth saying. I have been glad that my father was this way. He stood by his words.

I Hope I’m Like My Dad

Now that I’m writing about my dad and saying a few of the many things I could say about him, I am reminded that he would rather I didn’t say anything. My folks were that way. They didn’t want much said about the way they lived or the things they did. I get it. I think it is wise to be like they were. Let your actions speak louder than your words. Let your words and actions speak the thoughts of your heart and mind. Keep your word. Speak the truth. Honor your parents. Do your best. Be kind. Be thoughtful. Be careful. Help others. Think before you speak. Keep confidences. Try your hardest and best. There are so many…

If you knew my dad, I hope this blog post brings him close for a minute. He was a good man. I was lucky to have such a wonderful father. It’s been nice to think of him again.

Thanks for reading what I have written.

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