HAPPY DEAN EDMUND LEWIS DAY

It’s that time of year again ladies and gentlemen. Happy Dean Edmund Lewis Day. Seventy-eight years ago today, March 31st 1948, my dad, Dean Edmund Lewis, was born. I still hope one day it gets national attention. Let’s start that write in campaign people.

Dad did not ever like when his birthday fell on Easter. He felt that nothing should take away from the significance of Easter. Had hard time watching movie depictions of the death of Christ as his loyalty lied in God and family. After all he credited God in giving him a life with mom that resulted in kids and beyond.

Children getting a day off from school; greeting cards; a parade and a mention on a calendar or two would be quite nice. If we can give groundhogs; dead Presidents; inventors; scientists; Saints and everyone else in between their own day, then I do believe a mustached Engineer from the Midwest can get one too.

Dad passed away in 2018 weeks before he would have turned seventy, but we consider him seventy when he passed. Why a holiday? A renaissance man of sorts. His interests were Ham Radio; Weather; Astronomy; Welsh culture; Birds/nature; Scouts; Knot tying; Played the viola in his younger days and was an Auxiliary Coast Guardsman.

Logic; discipline; honor; respect; family and science guided his life which was all rooted in a deep faith in God. He helped people when they needed help just didn’t make a huge deal about it. Very kind and overprotective which opened the door to insanity at times, but the best intentions were always there.

He was left-handed but referred to his left hand as his other hand since he was a bit conservative. With that said dad tried to accept all types as longs as they weren’t hurting other people. It was that old Methodist, Baptist, Lutheran, Catholic, Christian mentality of living by God’s commandments with a dash of mercy and kindness.

He showed wisdom at times when he would rely on Mom’s counsel on somethings because, in spite of some rather colorful language/commentary regarding society, dad knew who to ask. He wore everything like a uniform, even a shirt and jeans looked like they could pass an inspection. Clean and pressed. The chief tool kept always, a Swiss Army pocketknife.

Was dad grumpy; impatient; imperfect; fussy and at times a bit bothersome? Oh absolutely, who isn’t. I loved my dad, but we are not talking Jesus Christ here, but a good man dad was nonetheless.

Faithful to his family and wife; honest; loyal and scientific/faith, yeah I think he qualifies for Holiday status. He carried regret and pain that was a burden of the past. Quite relatable as we all need of redemption.

So how does one celebrate this brand spanking new holiday? Show kindness; forgiveness; look after each other because you want to; love each other; be happy with who you are and have faith.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Love you, miss you, and we still remember you every day that goes by.