I just finished watching the season finale of “This is Us” and they left us hanging. Hanging on the edge of our seats for season two to see how Jack dies. I’ve been thinking about why this new NBC show has so many of us hooked, and I truly think it centers around Jack. Even though he’s flawed, we are drawn to his father’s heart for his children, and it makes us love him oh so much. The father’s heart, it’s undeniably one of the most powerful forms of love when done well.

So with that said, as my own father turns 85 today, I want to speak of the love he has given his family so very well. Many of you reading my blog know my dad, Don Schenzel. He was raised by hard working parents, August, and Nancy, but in a home that wasn’t loaded with affection or financial means. They raised their two sons during the Great Depression era and moved often, wherever the work could be found. I remember my dad telling me he was rarely in the same elementary school more than one grade. The work ethic they taught him has served him well all his life. He also inherited his mother’s gift for selling, and went from a career selling for Hormel’s to an eventual 30 plus years in real estate.

But I truly think my father’s greatest accomplishment is his family. Now that may sound a bit prideful, but I don’t mind if you think so. It has taken me getting to this season of my life to fully appreciate the man that is my father. Here are some snapshots of my life with my dad, and why I think he’s pretty special…

As a child I never worried about our family’s provision. Now, as an adult, I realize that when he quit his salaried job of 20 years, to start entirely over in real estate, what a huge leap of faith he took. We were living in Littleton, Colorado at the time, and he informed us that we were moving back to Nebraska so he could join Uncle Don’s real estate company. I was not a happy 7^th grader, moving from the Rocky Mountains to the Nebraska flatlands. But it turned out to be the best career move of his life. I’m grateful for the courage he had to make a big step like that, and that he shielded us from how risky it was.

My dad has always kept his promises. Part of the deal with moving back to Nebraska, was that he promised us he would bring us skiing once a year, a sport that my brother and I were just starting to enjoy. So every Christmas break, we would take off with our family friends, the Macalusos, and make the long Interstate 80 trek to ski the Summit. Once there, he would wake us up each day before sunrise shouting, “There’s virgin snow out there!” We would be the first ones in line for the chairlift, and ski our hearts out until they closed for the day. Those ski trips will forever remain in my mind as a testament to his commitment he made to us when we moved.

Skiing the Summit!

When loss has struck our family, my father has stood strong, but not so strong as to not show emotion. The first time I saw my father cry was when his best friend’s son was killed in a car accident while serving in the Navy. As we stood graveside in North Platte and listened to the guns go off during the military salute, he was shaken. Mike Fiedler was just one year older than me, and now he was gone, and I know he was hurting so deeply for his parents. When my Uncle Don was killed in a private plane accident a few years later he wept again as we left the cemetery. Don was both family, friend and business partner. Little did we both know, there would be even harder losses ahead.

During high school and college, I was definitely much closer to my mom than my dad. If I have any regret in our relationship, it would be that we didn’t know each other better during that season. He was a man of consistency, dinner with the family at 6:00 p.m., real estate appointment at 7:00 p.m. It would be rare that I would have time alone, just with my dad. But he was always there for me, and made the road trips to Kearney for college events, and helped secure my first apartment when I started my career at Arthur Andersen in Omaha. Both Ty and I always knew he always had our backs, and he still has mine at 58.

But I truly feel my dad blossomed when he became a grandfather. He has eight grandchildren that all respect him beyond measure. When we celebrated at his recent birthday party, I said during my toast that his legacy will live on in the lives of his eight incredible grandchildren. Ask any of them, and they will have stories about grandpa; trips he took them on, cousin sleepovers at their house, McDonalds Ice cream runs, hours logged pushing them as they learned to master the bike, money invested into their dreams. When my mom passed away he decided to sell their house and help both me and my brother build new houses with an attached apartment for him. Six months in Florida with us, six months in Nebraska with Ty and Terri’s family. He had his personal space, but he would also spend hours hanging out with family. These were the pre-teen/teenage years for his grandchildren, and they had the privilege of getting to know him even better during those years.

Gpa and his Legacy on Chesapeake Bay Vacation

I respect my father so much for the husband he has been, first 44 years with his beloved Alice until cancer stole her from us. The day we received the news of her diagnosis sitting in the hospital waiting room together will be imprinted in my mind forever. It wasn’t a journey he and I would have chosen to take, but I’m so grateful we could do it together. Over the course of her many appointments, I would talk to the doctors and nurses, and he would sit quietly holding mom’s hand as I asked the tough questions. I’m so glad I was able to travel with them to M.D. Anderson in Houston, and then Staten Island Hospital in New York. My dad wanted to exhaust every potential avenue for a cure. I will never forget one of the final days my mom was able to get out of her hospital bed. As he helped her up, she had to rest in his embrace to catch her breath. He gently stroked her horrible patchy hair and told her she was beautiful. And I knew right then, I was seeing a love that was in its purest form.

After my mom died, my dad would tell me that he would never want to have to go through that kind of loss again, but he risked it when he opened his heart to loving my wonderful stepmom Gunn. Now nine years into their marriage, I am so grateful that he has her companionship. Their zest for life is admirable, and I know they both feel so blessed to have each other to share life with in these “golden years”.

But if I’m going to be honest, I wish I could change how life looks now. I wish with all my heart that my mom, my brother and his wife were still alive. I wish my marriage would have survived. I find it ironic that it’s down to just “two” of the original “four”. I wouldn’t have scripted it this way. The last song at my dad’s 85^th birthday party was, “What a Wonderful World” and I had the blessing of dancing it with him. Tears filled my eyes as I thought, eventually, it will most likely just be me, left behind for now. But as hard as our losses have been, they have brought my dad and I closer. And I remind myself that I am blessed to have a dad who has loved me well, taught me how to love my family well, and indeed has made my world wonderful in so very many ways.

Happy 85th Birthday Don!