A Most Valuable Lesson From Dad

As a guy who spends his days talking a lot about fatherhood, there’s one question I am asked with regularity:

“What’s the most important thing your own dad taught you?”

Yikes. That’s hard to answer. But a fair question. I’m never good at picking “the best” or the “#1” anything. My mind – and heart –  don’t work that way.

But I will tell you this: when I’m asked about my father, I always get the same image in my head. We’re standing in the check-out line at the grocery store.

For a good part of my childhood, it was my father who did the family grocery shopping. And, as the youngest in the bunch, I often tagged along with him on his journeys to his favorite super market. Now, while I don’t remember much about the shopping experience, I do have vivid memories of my dad in the check-out line. Memories upon memories.

What I remember was his interaction with the check-out clerk. The cashier. The checker. The person punching in numbers on the cash register – back in the days when people punched in numbers on cash registers. I remember my father just talking away to that person – whether he knew them or not. And I also remember – as a kid – being embarrassed because it was my dad who was always chatting. It was my dad who always asked questions about family, weekend plans, vacations or children.

A simple, “Hello. How are you?” was never sufficient for my dad. In fact, I’m not sure I remember him asking that basic question. He jumped right in. Leading with a smile and following through with something more personal. An interrogative that went beyond the surface.

“How was your weekend?”

“Is your family still in town?”

“That was quite a rainstorm we had last night, wasn’t it?”

“Have your kids gone back to school?”

And he always got a response. And a smile. And a conversation.

What he received, in many ways, has become a lasting lesson from my dad to me. And it’s why one of the first things I think about when I think about my dad is him going through the check-out line at our grocery store.

Because what he received was something he valued greatly: a connection with another human being.