Kim Frencken: A daughter first

Long before I became a teacher, I was a daughter. I was a bit difficult. I stretched my parents' limits, to say the least. But one thing I always knew for certain was that I was loved.

I always tell people that I had a "Leave it to Beaver" childhood. For those that don't remember the series, that simply means that I had a blessed and wonderful childhood.

I spent my days exploring, playing, imagining, and learning. My parents encouraged me by playing games with me, giving me time to play, buying books and taking me on trips. 

They believed that the best education came from seeing and experiencing. Every summer they'd load us up in an old pickup and camper and off we'd head for adventure. Every night I was tucked in with prayers and a kiss.

Although they liked to show us places of interest, Mom and Dad valued school. They both took me that first day of kindergarten. Told the teacher that if I got in trouble at school, I'd get in trouble at home. I still remember how I looked up at them in shock and disbelief. They were serious. 

Still, I had to test the teacher. I found that one call from my teacher was enough for me to earn a spanking. They were fair about it. Never spanked me in anger. Always made sure I knew what I had done wrong (I already had that figured out). And always told me that this was done in love so I'd grow up to be a person of integrity. 

At that point, I didn't care much for being a person of integrity, whatever that was, but I was sorry I had disappointed them.

Dad modeled what a good husband looked like for my sister and me. He praised mom's cooking, always kissed her when he left and when he came home. Helped her in the kitchen and with laundry. Spent time with her alone in the morning and evening, thanking God for her and his family as they prayed together. They never went to bed angry. 

He modeled what a good dad was like by spending time with us. He was never too busy to talk to us, explain things to us, or take us somewhere. He was never too macho to tell us how much he loved us. Some of my earliest memories were of laughter. Dad loved to laugh.

Over the years, our relationship changed. Mom and Dad became my best friends. We still took trips together and got together regularly to play games and visit. Dad was determined that I learn how to ride a horse. He tried to teach me. I tried to learn. Still, we had some fun on trail rides. 

Any time I needed something, I called one of them, mostly dad. Every holiday was spent at one of our homes. Dad loved to make early morning phone calls on birthdays to sing happy birthday. Dad's favorite holiday was Valentine's Day. This was his time to show his girls how much he loved them with a card and box of chocolates.

This year is different. For the first time in my life, I won't get a call or a card from dad. Dad's heart finally gave out. We had some precious moments together before he went home. Dad made sure that I knew he loved me, gave me some final instructions, and told me how much he loved Jesus and was ready to go. Dad left a legacy of love. For that, I am grateful.

(For more of Kim Frencken's writing and information about her educational products, check out her blog, Chocolate For the Teacher.)