Even Crazy Parents Are Worthy of Honor

Today’s reading: Ephesians 6:1-4

Disclaimer: my father has told this story several times in public. He doesn’t mind my re-telling it here.

One night when I was about 15, I heard my father make a very strange phone call to Motel 6’s national customer service line. I’m guessing the woman who took the call has entertained plenty of friends and relatives with this story over the years.

The chain’s famous “We’ll Leave The Light On For You” ad campaign was in its first days, and Dad was a huge fan of actor Tom Bodett’s witty salesmanship.  He laughed hard every time one of those spots came on the radio.  I’ve always enjoyed the commercials, too.

But it was shocking to overhear Dad on the phone that night asking, angrily, to speak directly to Bodett himself.

I’m sure the woman must have thought it was a joke.

“Ma’ am, I called this number because I want to talk to Tom Bodett! I have an advertising specialties company, and I want to sell him some bumper stickers. Will you just put me through to him as quickly as possible?”

There was a long pause as the woman tried to explain that she couldn’t just patch Dad through to Tom Bodett — and that he wasn’t the guy Dad needed to talk to anyway.

“What do you mean Tom Bodett doesn’t work there?” Dad screamed. “This is the number for Motel 6, right?”

The woman assured Dad that he had, indeed, called Motel 6. But she had significant trouble explaining why she couldn’t help him reach Tom Bodett.

As I heard Dad become angrier and angrier toward the woman, and finally, slam the phone in frustration, I moved in behind him at his desk and began screaming too.

“Dad you are crazy! You are the weirdest man I’ve ever known. I can’t wait to be done with school, so I can move away from you and never have to hear your insane voice again.”

Dad transitioned quickly into one of his lonely, pitiful looks and started to cry.

“I don’t want you to move away,” he said through his tears.

I screamed a few more curses — at Dad and God alike — and stomped back to my bedroom, slamming several doors along the way myself.

This was a typical evening in my household when I was a boy. It’s the kind of thing that comes to mind every time I see God’s commandment that is the highlight of  today’s reading.

“‘Honor your father and mother’–this is the first commandment with a promise:
‘so that it may be well with you and you may live long on the earth.'” (Verses 2-3)

My father’s craziness led me to consider suicide several times even before I was 14. Live long on the earth? Ha. Back then, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to live another year.

What a difference God can make over 30  years!

Today I know that Dad has always had Aspberger’s Syndrome, a form of autism.  A psychologist stumbled upon the diagnosis just 3 years ago after Dad and I told her we’d read a  novel whose main character had Aspberger’s. We both noticed numerous similarities to Dad.

Actors cause Dad great confusion.

Lot’s of things about our fast-paced modern world are troubling for Dad, in fact.

A couple of days ago, for example, he was on the phone with my mother asking her what television channel he could find the basketball game he had been waiting to see.

Channell 24, she said.

“Okay. Hold on,” he replied as he eagerly punched the numbers 2 and 4 into the telephone keypad.

I could hear Mom laughing on the other end. I was busting up too.

“No, Dad,” I said gently, as he grinned innocently at me. “You have to use the television remote.”

He glared at the phone — not remembering that he still was in the middle of a conversation with Mom. Then he stared helplessly at the remote, a device he has used thousands of times in his life.

Then he gave me an angry, deperate look and yelled.

“Which one is the remote?!”

Twenty years ago, I would have yelled back. Probably called him a name or two as well.

God has taught me much since then.

This time I simply smiled and said calmly, “It’s the one next to your left hand.”

Dad was very suddenly very appreciative.

He smiled at me, used the remote to change the channel, and thoroughly enjoyed the game.  (He never got back to his chat with mom who eventually just hung up. We laughed again about the whole thing later.)

Many people who come across Dad’s bizarre behavior these days assume it’s related to his advanced age. I’m often asked if he has dementia or even Alzheimer’s disease.

No, he doesn’t.  He’s been behaving this way for as long as I can remember.

I (and the world) just used to respond to him much differently.

Thanks be to God for my father, one of the wisest men I know. May I one day do justice to his life story — filled with inspiring tales of much business and academic success — in the book he has asked me to write about him. Dad certainly has much to teach us all.