GOODlife Magazine June 2017

A GOODlife Starts with Dad Winner!
Announcing the
GOODlife Starts
with Dad WINNER!
Congratulations Christina Rollo!
Christina Rollo
Winner
“What did you learn today in school?” Dad always asked us during dinner. The family dinner table was where Dad
raised us. We told him about our day, and he dispensed counsel and wisdom.
“What Over time, did you we noticed learn today that in Dad school?” repeated Dad several always themes. asked us For during example, dinner. “Fiscal Responsibility” warned of the danger
The of credit family card dinner debt table and the was importance where Dad of raised a good us. credit We told rating. him We about were our years away from our first credit card, but
day, when and the he time dispensed came, we counsel were preprogrammed and wisdom. to do the responsible thing.
Over I blew time, it. I made we noticed many that bad Dad decisions. repeated I will several probably themes. make For more. example, (Sorry, Dad.) However, he did succeed in leading
“Fiscal by example, Responsibility” and these life warned lessons of the continue danger to of shape credit my card life. debt and the
importance “Who did this?” of a good Dad asked. credit rating. He asked We it were a lot. years We never away from replied, our “It first was me.” We also didn’t volunteer a sibling.
credit Tattling card, was but forbidden. when the So, time Dad came, was often we were answered preprogrammed by a general to squirmy do the silence. “Well, it must have been Grace,”
responsible Dad would sometimes thing. conclude. “It couldn’t have been any of you because you wouldn’t be jumping on the sofa.”
I “Yes, blew it it. was I made Grace,” many we hurriedly bad decisions. agreed I and will felt probably the joyous make relief more. of (Sorry, the reprieved. Grace was the invisible child in
Dad.) our family However, and responsible he did succeed for all in unsolved leading by mysteries. example, Only and these as an life adult lessons did I begin to recognize that grace was what
continue we had been to shape given. my Now, life. when I want to assign blame, I try to remember, it might have been Grace.
“Who Dad kept did this?” promises—all Dad asked. of He them asked for it over a lot. 50 We years. never Even replied, when “It he was didn’t me.” know how he would do it, he worked to
We make also it happen. didn’t volunteer Paying college a sibling. tuition Tattling was was one forbidden. of the promises. So, Dad was often
answered “Do you know by a general what this squirmy is?” Dad silence. held up “Well, a dusty it must framed have pencil been sketch Grace,” that Dad he had unearthed from the basement.
would He pointed sometimes out the conclude. signature—Picasso. “It couldn’t “That’s have been right. any This of you is a because very valuable you piece of art.” Dad continued, “So, don’t
wouldn’t ever worry be about jumping tuition. the I’m sofa.” taking “Yes, care it of was it.” Grace,” I didn’t we believe hurriedly him. agreed I was too old, almost 19, to have blind faith.
and That felt sketch the joyous could not relief possibly of the reprieved. be some lost Grace art treasure was the worth invisible millions. child in I looked from the drawing back to Dad and
our saw family he wanted and me responsible to believe—believe for all unsolved in him. mysteries. I did, and Only the as sketch an adult hangs did on my wall with my diploma.
I begin to recognize that grace was what we had been given. Now, when I
“Never check your brain at the door” was Dad’s motto when it came to faith. We always went to church as a family,
want to assign blame, I try to remember, it might have been Grace.
and when I grew up, I still went—not out of habit or tradition, but because of belief. My belief. As Dad always said,
Dad “Know kept for his yourself. promises—all Don’t take of them anyone for else’s over 50 word, years. not Even even when the pastor’s.” he didn’t
know how he would do it, he worked to make it happen. Paying college
Great lessons on how to live life. Thanks, Dad.
tuition was one of the promises.
“Do you know what this is?” Dad held up a dusty framed pencil sketch
that he had unearthed from the basement. He pointed out the signature—
Picasso. “That’s right. This is a very valuable piece of art.” Dad continued,
“So, don’t ever worry about tuition. I’m taking care of it.” I didn’t believe
him. I was too old, almost 19, to have blind faith. That sketch could not
possibly be some lost art treasure worth millions. I looked from the drawing
back to Dad and saw he wanted me to believe—believe in him. I did, and the
sketch hangs on my wall with my diploma.
“Never check your brain at the door” was Dad’s motto when it came to
faith. We always went to church as a family, and when I grew up, I still
went—not out of habit or tradition, but because of belief. My belief. As Dad
always said, “Know for yourself. Don’t take anyone else’s word, not even the
pastor’s.”
Great lessons on how to live life. Thanks, Dad.