As a child, it was our tradition to spend some time each summer with my grandmother Schweitzer who lived in Pilot Grove. Those visits were much anticipated by my three sisters and I – coming from our suburban life in the big town of Columbia (population then about 50,000) – we reveled in the freedom of running through the town unchaperoned with our cousins, being able to walk to the pool and to the ballfield for the nightly games.

We also enjoyed getting to meet our relatives in the vast, extended Schuster family. Typically, as we accompanied our grandmother to Daughters of Isabella luncheons and other social functions, we were always greeted with, “Oh, your one of Jack’s girls.” The conversation would inevitably evolve into stories – always humorous – on my dad. What kid doesn’t love that?

And we loved the reference of being one of “Jack’s girls.” It was an honorific worn proudly, surely as meaningful – or more so – than a pageant title and it certainly made us feel that way, like royalty. (My mom still refers to him occasionally as “the prince of Pilot Grove” but that has a whole different meaning....)

But more than that, it was enlightening to learn about Dad from those stories from the mouths of those who knew him as he was growing up – there was no doubt he could have been the model for Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer and the lore confirmed our suspicions.

Dad is definitely a guy who knows how to enjoy himself – he might not be the first one at the party, but he’ll likely be the last one to leave. He’s never met a stranger. And despite this penchant for fun, he’s never missed a single Sunday Mass.

This is balanced however with a huge work ethic – and an innate sense of community, giving back and doing the right thing. Many of these things are done simply because that’s what you do – it’s not for the accolades or acknowledgement of others, because often we don’t hear about his service to others until well after the fact.

Now, this doesn’t mean he’s the busiest man on the planet, because he’s usually not. The to-do list – he often gets “direction” on this from mom – is often long, but I think he’s got his priorities in order. At 66, he plays softball on two or three teams (I can’t keep track), and then there’s Wednesday night basketball and lots of time with his 11 grandchildren. He’s always the first to make the “sacrifice” to nap with a tired child, to shoot hoops with them in the driveway or take them fishing.

And that’s his gift: besides all the stuff we needed to learn that he taught us – changing a tire, throwing a softball, painting a house – he taught us about spending time with each other, looking out for each other and keeping our family close to our heart. He always gives us the gift of his time.

Happy Father’s Day. You’re the best!