My First Fella

There is never a June that comes around when I don’t think of my first fella and favorite Father’s Day memory.

Nothing captivated my attention more as a child than a toy stuffed bird my dad kept in a curio cabinet in his man cave. This feathery splendor was about the size of my palm with wild ostrich feather plumage glued onto it. I imagined stories about why this fragile object was set apart and displayed only for Dad’s eyes to see. Was it a gift from a princess he had rescued from the grips of a ferocious dragon? Was it a piece of treasure he had found while hunting with Indians?

One spring, with my vast five-year-old wisdom, I decided that, since Dad liked it so much, I should give it to him again.

The perfect solution

The Saturday before Father’s Dad I carefully snatched the stuffed bird from the case. Holding it in my tiny hands as if it were precious jewels, I fled with my stolen booty to my bedroom. Hiding my plunder, I left my room to bring back the newspaper and masking tape, certain that Dad would be thrilled with his Father’s Day present.

After dinner on Father’s Day, while Mom and Dad were having their coffee, I stood before him and ceremonially offered my carefully wrapped package. He looked at the crumpled ball of newspaper encircled with bands of masking tape and pulled me up into his lap so I could have the perfect view of the unveiling. As he carefully unwrapped the mound of tape and paper, he revealed the soft, fragile stuffed bird I had taken from his glass cabinet. He smiled his I-love-you-over-the-moon smile.

“I love it,” he said. “Thank you for the perfect present, Peaches. This is such a cute bird. I’ll keep it forever!”

There is never a June that comes around when I don’t think of my first fella and favorite Father’s Day memory. Share on X

He smothered me with hugs and kisses and I erupted in giggles. After taking in his perfect love, I strutted away as if I had just been awarded a national medal for being the most loving and awesome child of the year.

Later that summer, we began preparations to celebrate Dad’s birthday in September. He never wanted much of a fuss, but we enjoyed honoring him the best we could. I had no idea how to out-gift Father’s Day.

Then the answer came to me

When Dad wasn’t watching, I returned to his room, opened the display case, and birdnapped the feathered masterpiece. And as before, I took it to my room and wrapped it with newspaper and masking tape.

When the time came for presents after Dad’s birthday dinner, I made sure I was at the front of the gift-giving pack. Dad, once again, scooped me up along with my ball of newspaper and masking tape and pulled me onto his lap.

When Dad opened his present and saw the plumage and beautiful colors, he never missed a beat. He raved on about how beautiful this present was and how he was so pleased that I knew just what he liked. He never let on that he recognized the bird from the glass case in his room or that he even knew I had taken it. Instead, he made a fuss over me and my re-re-gifted item that had belonged to him since before I could remember. He made me feel like I had offered him the moon and it was the most special gift he ever received.

His love

Dad has been gone for over forty years now, and sadly, sometimes I forget what was so special about him. Then I remember how he was my first fella, revisit my favorite Father’s Day memory … and I smile. I can close my eyes and still see that look of complete love for me on his face. And, that’s a memory of why he was so special to me.

Blessed with this memory

I realize there are women/girls who don’t have fond memories of their fathers. That’s so terribly sad. Having a loving father helps me to understand–the best a person can, anyway–the love of my Heavenly Father. And that love carries me on, far after my first fella is gone.

Happy Father’s Day.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!
1 John 3:1

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