By JANET HART LEONARD
From the Hart
His ways were gentle. His voice was kind. He always made me feel safe and secure and most of all … loved.
His name was James Hart. He was my dad.
Father’s Day has had a hollow feeling ever since my dad passed in June of 2006. It was one month before I started writing my newspaper column. He never read any of my writing, yet so much of it is about him.
The scent of Old Spice Cologne gets the attention of my nose as well as my heart. My dad always wore it.
White shirts with a plastic pocket guard for his pens remind me that my dad had the heart of a blue-collar worker in a white-collar position at Firestone. A few years ago, one of the men who worked for him called me. He wanted to tell me everyone on the second shift wanted to work for my dad. He was a fair man. He believed the best way to get people to work hard was to tell his workers that he appreciated them.
I never heard him swear – or cuss, as he put it. Once in a while, I did hear a quiet S#&T! He was usually aggravated at himself. Dad never raised his voice to me or my mom. He did get my attention with a “Janet Kay!”
Dad believed I could sell cars and trucks before I ever sold the first one. I felt his presence while writing my book. Occasionally, a redbird would show up at our birdfeeder. I believe it is a sign he is still with me and is proud of me.
In my book, I talk about his four-year-old neighbor, Jonathan, who would call my dad “Mr. Rogers.” He may have seen that he looked like Fred Rogers, but I also think he knew he was a kind man like Mr. Rogers.
I never really saw my dad get angry, although I’ve been told that a relative once made the comment about me not being a “blood” relative and Dad wanted to jerk a knot in his tail. He was always very protective of me.
Dad worked long hours at a hot, smelly and hard job at Firestone, but I never heard him complain. When I was little, we only had one car and if my mom needed it, she would drive him to work, then he would walk the two miles back home from Firestone. He didn’t want her to wake me up to come and get him at 11 p.m. even if it was snowing. He was just that way.
I wish my dad could have known my husband, Chuck. Chuck is a lot like my dad. Oh, the conversations they could have had on our back porch.
Kind men are hard to find. I’ve been blessed to have one for a dad and one for a husband.
I just realized my dad waited 14 years after he and mom were married to become my dad. I waited 14 years, being single, to become Chuck’s wife. A lot of kindness and love were stored up in those years.
Gentle ways. Kind voices. I’ve truly been blessed and very much loved.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad and Chuck!
Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). Visit janethartleonard.com.