A Tribute to My Dad

Jim Kredit

March 11, 1944--September 20, 2015

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​​​My dad was a super hero. I grew up believing there was nothing my dad couldn’t do.  I was always safe when he was around.  He had big broad shoulders, a soothing deep voice and nothing ever seemed to alarm him.  And I had other proof. In the snowstorm of 1975 he was part of a brave group of men who escorted a doctor on snowmobiles to a woman’s home who was giving birth. Her house was miles from town and their chances of making it were not good.  It was a harrowing night. They couldn’t see a thing and their snowmobiles nearly failed them as they battled the ice, snow and 90 mph winds. The next morning the snowdrifts were up to our roof, but my dad and the other men had defied the odds and were holding a healthy newborn. 
 
There was the time he raced a tornado home in his Chevy El Camino. And the utter lack of fear when he would stand outside, surveying the greenish-black sky during a tornado warning while the rest of us huddled in the basement.
 
He filled the hearts of my possible male suitors with fear.  One young man was foolish enough to pull into our driveway to pick me up for a date and honk his horn signaling me to come out.  My dad was not having that.  No boy who wouldn’t treat his daughter better than that would have the opportunity to take her out.  My dad waited this guy out so he could look him in the eye.  Needless to say we never went out again. 
 
My super hero dad also dressed the part.  For living in a small town in the Midwest my dad dressed more like a city dweller.  And I’m pretty sure none of my friend’s dads blow dried their hair or used multiple hair products to create such stylish locks.
 
As I grew into a teenager, I discovered that even super heros aren’t invincible. His cancer when I was 16 was the first time I’d seen my dad that physically weak, and yet, he was gracious, kind and positive.  I began to see that he didn’t need super strength to be an exceptional human being. 
 
But as an adult, rather than losing my childlike awe, I realized my dad did have a super power.  But it wasn’t in his physical strength.  It was his ability to make everyone he met feel like they were valued and valuable.  Even his lack of complaining, I believe, was primarily due to his love of others.  He desired to love others well and for everyone to feel comfortable around him. 
 
I think that was the most amazing thing to me.  It was easy to see how much other people enjoyed being with him.  How even in his quietness he was a presence in any room.  How kind he was to every person, no matter how unimportant they might seem to others.  EVERYONE loved my dad.
 
And he loved me.  If it's true that a child's view of God is shaped by their view of their dad, I was profoundly blessed. 
 
His body let him down long before his strong spirit. And in the end, Jesus held out his hand and said, “Come on Jim, are you ready? Let’s fly away.”  My dad replied with his usual smile, “I’m ready."  And he was free.

My dad is a super hero.