Breakfast with Daddy

My Daddy worked two jobs for most of his life. His full-time employment was the evening shift in the tool room at the local shipyard. He worked mornings at the local grocery store’s produce department. Yet, he always found time to cook breakfast while Mama readied for her job at the grocery store. Some of my most treasured memories are breakfast with Daddy.

When school was in session and also, when summer break arrived, there were certain things I looked forward to happening. The routine of a schedule brought peace to any anxiety that tried to conquer my thoughts for the day.

I found comfort in knowing that my Daddy would be preparing breakfast each morning. The scents of hot grits with butter, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast wafted through the house as Daddy prepared the food. Accompanied by a glass of sweet tea, this was my comfort meal to begin the day.

Daddy had worked until midnight the night before and was tired. Yet, he found the strength to help Mama by cooking breakfast. She dressed in her blue uniform early each day and prepared to drive to work. I wondered if they planned this routine of Daddy cooking or did things just happen to work out that way.

As I found my seat on the yellow plastic-covered chair at the yellow chrome rectangle table, I looked forward to the conversation with my Daddy. Once the food was on the plates and ready to be served, we thanked God for the meal and began to eat.
Mama said her goodbyes and left for work.

In my pre-teen years, Daddy and I discussed fishing, planting the vegetable garden, deadheading flowers, and my school activities. The conversation was lively and filled with laughter at times.

The teen years arrived and I developed an “attitude of ingratitude”. My moods changed from happy to grouchy in an instant. I was learning to make choices and I didn’t always find the right path in life.
Those breakfast talks continued and Daddy listened quietly as I ranted about kids at school who made me angry. I shared about boyfriends who I thought were great. Daddy shared his thoughts on each topic without being judgemental.

Although I was trying to learn to become a responsible person, I often failed. Daddy knew my faults and mistakes. He never condemned me. He did offer sage advice and shared his own experiences. Sometimes I listened and heeded his warnings. Other times, I had to find things out on my own.
After eating his breakfast, my father sat at the table and read the paper while I continued eating. Sometimes we were quiet and other times, we engaged in lively conversation.

No matter how I was feeling or what type of mood my teenage self was experiencing, having that special time of sharing breakfast with Daddy gave me a blessed way to begin the day.

When I graduated high school and married my sweetheart Alan, I missed those breakfast chats. I hope he knew how special those mornings were to me and how they shaped my day.

Daddy went to Heaven in 1998, after a battle with lung cancer. The time and extra special effort he showed in cooking breakfast and sharing conversations with me during the years is something I treasure.

Dear God, thank You for my earthly Daddy. He taught me how to show love and compassion to others. Amen.

“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” (Exodus 20:12 NIV)

In His Name,
Melissa Henderson