Yesterday was my dad’s birthday. He’s been gone 30 years, but I don’t think we ever stop missing our parents. I know that he is in a much better place, that his physical limitations no longer hinder him, that he and Jason and our baby that died are all having a great time together, and that I will see them again one day.
Art Knudson. Father. Grandfather. Teacher. Preacher. Evangelist. 9/19/1908 – 2/13/1988. Gone 30 years.
Listening to Pandora this morning – this Father’s Day 2015 – songs from my childhood have put me in a contemplative mood. “Tell Me the Story of Jesus.” “I Love to Tell the Story.” “Farther Along.” Songs that remind me of my dad and my growing up years in the church.
Since my father was a preacher, Sundays growing up were busy with church and church-related activities. We kids were responsible for folding the bulletins on the way to church. Church was 25 miles north of where we lived, so we had a half hour to fold them and do whatever else we needed to do to get ready for the day. Dad had prepared the content of the bulletins on Saturday. Mom had typed them up and printed them out on the mimeograph machine in the dining room late Saturday evening.
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