|
|
| My Dad |
 My father, Harold (Bud) Wayne Melloh was created by God for fatherhood. I believe his primary calling in life was to raise boys. He answered and embraced that calling better than any man that I know.
My dad's passion for raising a family began at an early age. He grew up in a modest home. My grandfather, Bill Sr. was a union plumber by trade. My grandpa was the toughest, most loving and affectionate man, you would have ever wanted to meet. He could clear out a bar in one minute, but yet compassionately love his wife and children the next. He and Lida, his wife, had three boys, Bill Jr., Bob and Harold (Bud).
My dad worked 35 years as a union plumber and coached youth football and baseball for over 20 years. Bill spent over 30 years teaching physical education and coaching track, cross country and basketball. Bob owns his own mechanical contracting company, Johnson, Melloh, Inc (JMI).
My grandparents raised their boys very well. My grandpa coached them in sports, took the family to church and spent a lot of quality time with his boys. My grandmother was a professional skater prior to getting married. She was the most loving and committed woman a child could ask for. Her nurturing skills made a significant impact on her boy's lives. They married very loving, nurturing, affectionate and considerate women. My grandmother treated each of them like her own daughters, especially my mom, Nancy.
My dad met my mom, at work over 40 years ago. They married on August 22, 1964, at the tender ages of 19 and 18. They are still married and their love has grown deeper throughout the years. Within the first twenty months of their marriage, they had two boys. Jeff was born in 1965 and Mike in 1966. Needless to say, my parents had their hands full. They caught their breath and waited a few years before having me in 1970. My youngest brother, Chad, was born in 1977.
My mom didn't work outside of the home for the majority of our childhood. My dad left the house at 6:30am and got home at 3:30pm. That was fairly consistent. We could always depend on dad being home about the same time every day. We ate dinner at the table together as a family. For my parents, spending quality time with their family was the most important thing in their lives. Every Friday night, we would go to dinner and the movies. Very rarely did we ever deviate from that routine. My mom and dad have continued that tradition.
However tough it was to raise four boys, my parents never complained. They embraced the responsibility to be parents and to set an example for us to follow. We always took a vacation regardless if we could afford it or not. My mom and dad weren't rich with money; they were wealthy with love and affection. They constantly showered us with affection. I would categorize them as survivors. They never let any lack of money or resources ever stop them from giving their boys the best memories any family could ever hope for.
Furthermore, we never had to worry about them ever getting a divorce. That word never entered into their vocabulary. They fought like most parents do, but they would always make up in front of us boys. This gave us security that we needed as we occasionally witnessed our mom and dad argue.
Needless to say, my parents had their hands full with four boys to raise. My mom was a trooper and very determined to discipline and raise us despite our differences in gender. While growing up, my mom was soft hearted, but tough minded. She was a very loving mother even though we tried her patience on countless occasions. She always loved us unconditionally. Her love and affection are still felt even though we're not living with her anymore.
 My dad was very tough, but tender, on us. We had a healthy fear of my dad. My dad displayed a remarkable blend of discipline and affectionate love. Which is remarkable considering that he spent the majority of his life hating his job. But he always went to work, despite his lack of enthusiasm. He did this line of work for over 35 years. I can't even imagine the pain that he endured. He experienced that pain for us. His job was his cross that he carried and sacrificed for his family.
In addition to his sacrificial love for his family, my dad is so wise about many of life's topics. He is so knowledgeable about vary diverse subjects, including politics. He's very astute at analyzing politicians and stays up to date with many political concerns. You always know where my dad stands on just about any topic. He's extremely opinionated about his strong beliefs.
He can carry on a conversation with anyone because he was self-taught. He never went to college, but he has the mind of a man who completed his Masters Degree. He definitely holds a doctorate in being a dad.
He never wanted us to do without. His passion was, and still is, his family. Keeping his family close was his life work. It still is. He is so dedicated to his family that he would go through his own pain before allowing any of us to suffer.
This translated into me never wanting to disappoint my dad. While growing up, I could see the disappointment in his eyes every time I messed up. While at times, I would disappoint him, he would always tell me how proud he was of me and that he loved me. It was such a genuine love. His love for me has always been unconditional. No matter how bad I messed up, he was always there to love and support me.
We became and still are life long friends. We did everything together. We ran errands together, mowed the grass, did yard work, went to the movies, shopped, cleaned the car, painted dug outs together, whatever, as long as we were together. I would watch him build things or repair things. I used to always hand him his tools. He would explain what he was doing while making the repairs. He can fix anything. Unfortunately I can't fix or build anything. Therefore I call my dad if something breaks. Or I just pay someone to do it and I ask my dad if it looks ok.
While growing up, anytime my dad left, I was usually right behind him. He would call me his pal. I was his shadow.
Sometimes my dad and I would play hooky from work and school. We would just go hang out together. We would call it our day. Sometimes we would go to the horse races, catch a baseball game, go to the movies, hit some balls together or just hang out. It was so special. I had my dad to myself.
I remember many times driving in the car and he would reach over and grab my knee with his big strong hands trying to tickle my knees. I would try and be tough and act like it didn't tickle and/or hurt, but I would always cave into his strong grip. I would laugh and he would just grin at me, like he got me again.
He coached me for most of my youth sports career. He was the most incredible coach. He demanded that we give 110% in sports. He never accepted anything less. He ran a tight ship. He was a disciplinarian and a strategist. He was never out-coached. He always had his teams well-prepared.
Several years after he coached these boys, they wrote him letters thanking him for his tireless commitment and dedication. I have had the privilege to read some of these letters. His impact on their lives, in such a short period of time, was so profound that they invited him to major celebrations in their lives, such as graduation ceremonies and weddings.
Furthermore, I know this by the collection of trophies (that's when getting a trophy meant something), and the stories that his friends tell me who coached against him. We won probably 80% of our games, if not more.
Prior to starting COACH Ministry, I used to ask myself, why God delivered me to my parents. Why am I so blessed? Why aren't others?
As I began to reflect on these questions, I felt God tell me that He wanted me to give back what I had received. My classmates at church jokingly, voted me off of the island because I have an incredible relationship with my dad. The majority of the men that I meet have had and continue to have a bad relationship with their dads. I am amazed. My heart bleeds for them. I wept many times as I listened to their stories. I began thinking if I were in their shoes, what my life would've been like.
I owe my parents so much. I owe my dad so much for teaching me what it meant to be a man. He taught me how to love a woman. He taught me how to be responsible, how to carry out my responsibility, how to keep my commitments, how to respect others, take risks, stand up for what you believe in, etc. I could go on and on.
I owe everything to my parents. They sacrificed all of themselves to make me the man I am today.
Many men begin their journey into fatherhood as their children's hero. They think and begin to say to their friends. My dad can beat up your dad. My dad is better at sports than your dad. My dad is stronger than yours. We've all heard it before. I have never been afraid or embarrassed to point out or introduce my dad to people. I am very proud of the job that he did to raise me.
Bud Melloh is my hero of yesterday, today and tomorrow.
I love you Dad!
|
|
 |
 UPCOMING EVENTS |
| |
| |
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
