Dear Friends,
Recently I came across this memoir written by my dad about his experiences of being a father. It brought back a flood of warm childhood memories for me of happy days shared together.
As we approach Father’s Day, I thought you would enjoy reading his reflections.
From Dr. Dobson’s Pen
Being a father and a Type A personality myself, I look back on my parenting experiences and recall instances where I could have done a better job. I wish I could relive some of those busy days at a slower pace. Unfortunately, none of us is allowed do-overs or mulligans. When our record is finally in the books, not a word or a deed can be altered.
Would it be self-serving to tell you that I also did some things right during my early days as a father, and that the memories of some very special times with my kids rank at the top of my list of accomplishments today? Among my favorites are recollections of my daughter, Danae, when she was five years old. We used to take bike trips together to a nearby park on Saturday mornings. We would play in a sandbox with shovels and buckets. I taught her to build sand castles, explained what a moat and a drawbridge were, and talked about anything else that seemed to interest her. Then we would go to a nearby taco stand and have lunch before riding home.
On the way back, we listened every week to a favorite recording of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella on a small cassette recorder, and we sang the songs together. Danae loved those outings, and she can tell you in detail about them today. And guess what? I loved them too.
Our son, Ryan, and I had our fun adventures together too. When he was three years old, I would hide his stuffed bears, lions, deer, and giraffes around the house. Then when it was dark, we’d take my flashlights and his toy guns, and we would creep around on a big game hunt. When he was twelve, we began hunting and fishing together for real. I will never forget those days in the great outdoors with my only son.
From where I sit today, I can say that nothing, and I mean nothing, from that era turned out to be more significant than the hours I spent with my little family. The relationships we enjoy today were nurtured during those years when it would have been very easy for me to chase every professional prize and ignore what mattered most at home.
What I am trying to convey is addressed specifically to dads who are still raising kids and want to respond to the desires of their little hearts. My advice is also relevant to fathers whose daughters are grown. The woman who used to be “Daddy’s little princess” may still long for what she didn’t receive when she was young. Even though these fathers can no longer play in the sandbox with their five-year-olds, it is never too late for them to say, “You are precious to me.”
I asked our radio listeners to call our organization some years ago and record a message for their dads. More than six hundred people participated. I listened to quite a few of the recordings, and we aired some of them on Father’s Day.
Not one of these messages focused on what the father did professionally. None of the callers said, “Thanks, Dad, for earning a lot of money,” or “Thanks for the big house you provided for us,” or “Thanks for the Cadillac [or Mercedes or BMW].” No one mentioned living in an upscale neighborhood.
Instead, caller after caller said, “Thanks, Dad, for loving me and for being there for me.” Some said with strong emotion, “Thank you for letting me interrupt you, even when you were busy.” Nearly all of the calls coming from women mentioned the presence of tenderness in the relationship.
We kept a transcript of those recordings, and there is one that I wish everyone could hear. These are the actual words of a caller. She said quietly: Hi, this is Kathy from Georgia, with a letter for my daddy. I don’t know where things went wrong, when the pain, prescriptions, and alcohol began. I was just a kid. You tried to never let me down, Daddy, but many times you did. Daddy, in 1978, always and still, I was thinking of you as Father’s Day approached. I searched for just the right card for you, my darling daddy, and mailed it late. But Daddy, all day long your phone was busy. You died alone on the floor, beside your upturned phone, on Father’s Day. When I got to Portland, my card was still in your mailbox. You never knew, Daddy. I was too late. God, help me to always remember that late is better than never, but it’s not good enough. Daddy, you died without experiencing my care and my love on Father’s Day.
Kathy’s words still echo in my mind today: “Daddy . . . ,” she said, “always and still, I was thinking of you.” Even though decades have passed since the painful experiences of her childhood, this woman continues to grieve for her renegade father. The recording reveals no anger or resentment in her voice—just lingering sorrow because her “darling daddy” was never there for her.
I can’t tell you how many grown women have told me similar stories about their fathers who disappointed them again and again. Don’t let that happen to your relationship with your own children.
That tender story that my dad shared sparks nostalgia and gratitude to him for being so devoted to Ryan and me.
For Father’s Day last year, I unknowingly penned my final message to him on a greeting card with these words: “Thank you for your loyalty and commitment to me and our family, and for always being there. Your love is something that I treasure every day. You and I have always shared a special bond that will last throughout eternity, and I love you with all my heart.”
At that time, I didn’t realize that just two months later my dad would graduate to his heavenly home. Although there’s a lingering sadness that accompanies his absence, the warm memories and godly legacy he left behind are even more prevalent.
My dad’s greatest gift to me was introducing me to Jesus, and I vividly remember that experience today. I was five years of age, and we had just returned home from a Sunday evening church service. My dad and I were the only two in the room as he explained the gospel message in a way my childish mind could easily comprehend. Then he asked if I would like to pray to ask Jesus to forgive me of my sins and come live in my heart. I willingly agreed, and my dad and I prayed “the sinner’s prayer” together.
Afterwards, with tears in his eyes, he hugged me and rejoiced that his daughter had just made the greatest decision of her life. Fast forward to today, and I’m the one who’s overcome with emotion in contemplating that my dad introduced me to Jesus as my Lord and Savior.
I will be eternally grateful to my dad for making that a priority. He advised parents numerous times in his writings and broadcasts that leading their children to faith in Christ should be “job one.” It’s the difference between spending eternity together or being eternally separated, as Scripture clearly states in Acts 4:12: Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved (NIV).
My dad encouraged parents not to get so busy that they lose sight of the one assignment that matters most. He warned moms, dads, and grandparents not to rely on pastors and Sunday school teachers to lead their children to receive Jesus. The responsibility begins at home. Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it (Proverbs 22:6, NIV).
My dad referred to that as “leaving a godly legacy,” and he even wrote a book about that subject entitled, Your Legacy.
During this season of celebrating fatherhood, JDFI and the Dobson family would like to encourage men who are striving to be devoted dads and spiritual leaders in a world that offers little praise and support. The biblical principles that you’re instilling in your sons and daughters will be remembered long after you’re gone, just as I am experiencing today.
May the Lord guide you and your family in the days ahead.
Warmly in Christ,
Danae Dobson
Senior editor and JDFI board member
Dr. James Dobson Family Institute
A Message from the President
I hope you are each as inspired as I was to read Danae’s tribute to her dad. While only Danae and Ryan have the special privilege of calling Dr. James Dobson “Dad,” he was a father figure to me and to so many of you around the world who listened to his radio broadcasts for nearly five decades. He did the most important thing a father can do and that was to consistently pass along his faith in Christ through words and daily actions.
Fathers, please hear that message. You are vitally important in the lives of your wives and children. The legacy you give them of faith, love, and family will be with them forever. You are needed and appreciated!
I also want to thank all of you who so faithfully give to the Dr. James Dobson Family Institute (JDFI). We are grateful for your ongoing support which allows us to continue providing essential resources on marriage, family, faith, and freedom that will make a lasting impact for generations to come.
Bart Brock, Ph.D.
Chairman and President
Dr. James Dobson Family Institute
This letter may be reproduced without change and in its entirety for non-commercial and non-political purposes without prior permission from the Dr. James Dobson Family Institute.
