Bright Fame

My dad's first name, Robert, means "Bright Fame". His middle name, Donald, means "Ruler of the World". Indeed, He is well-known in the 'hall of fame' in the college where he played football, as a lineman at 160 lbs. He 'shines' among his local community in the Flathead Valley for being a 'painless dentist', and among his colleagues and friends as an avid hunter, fisher, and businessman. For we too were taught by him valuable, foundational values of 'hunting and gathering'. I can still see my sister climbing up into his lap safely while he sits on his 'throne' (the arm chair), him going outside to 'shoot some arrows', him feeding the horses, and us bumbling down some forest-service road in search of wild game.



Without doubt, as a young lad, there was no question in my mind that he was the 'ruler' of our family. Or that he was bright. Time would recount to tell of the parables and 'seeds of wisdom' told: the boy who cried wolf; eating dinner with the family around the table was not a option; and 'those who play the games must be willing to take the bumps and bruises'.



What my dad will become famous for, is his caring strength. It is this 'caring' which rules the family, and which rules the world. Behind a driven goal to provide for his family, a love for his nation, and resolute mind in politics and values, is a warrior's heart that fights for his family, and also for love to be free in the hearts of his family and his world. It has been said that the greatest love is to lay down one's life for your friends. In his case, it has been his family. He has sown the seeds to build a family, a heritage, and a legacy. These seeds have sprouted, and have themselves begun to grow and bear fruit: fruit, which, in turn, is destined to replenish the earth with divine justice and mercy - a world ruled by Love.



The most prominent memory I can think of, which I cannot escape or fail to recount, is of father and son, standing at the top of the hill above our driveway, gazing with wonder and amazement at a common, every-day miracle: the Montana sunset. We soaked-in the view, and we were speechless. I was taught an important lesson that day: about presence. About 'being there'. About caring. Our hearts were full of warmth and appreciation for the Artist's awesome masterpiece-mural in the sky. I'm not sure that even a word was spoken, but volumes were communicated and understood. Now every time I see fire in Montana's skies, or any sunset, I think of Someone who cares, of someone who cares, and of someone I care about deeply.



x