V O L U M E
X I I I
FIND US ON
N U M B E R
A S I S AT D O W N T O R E A D A B O U T A L L T H E A M A Z I N G L K N M E N
in this issue, I recalled a recent conversation with a friend of mine that made me realize just how well-deserved a celebration of men is—and when I think of outstanding men, I always think of my dad and miss him terribly. Similarly, my friend was missing her dad when she was considering getting a new cell phone, but she was hesitant because she wasn’t sure if in doing so she would lose a voicemail she had saved from her father, who had passed away a few months prior. Hearing his voice gave her great comfort, and she was willing to keep her old phone for all time if it meant she would be able to hear him whenever she wanted. I couldn’t help but feel a little envious…how I wish I could hear my own father’s voice again. My dad was the smartest man I’ve ever known. He frequently expressed to me, then later to his grandchildren, that we would one day appreciate just how smart he was. He was right--we do. And it’s our guess that he is probably explaining to God right now how if He, too, would do things Sam Jordan’s way, it all might run a little smoother. Dad was also a patriot. He believed our founding fathers had gotten it right but that we had spent the last 243 years mucking it up. But he believed his grandchildren could get this nation back on track, with his direction, of course. He didn’t impart his directives with fancy words and eloquent speeches—in fact, his fervor often got the best of him and there was quite a bit of face flushing and fist pounding involved. But though unpolished, his rough-around-the-edges passion provided a model for his grandchildren of what it meant to love your country and to live your convictions.
My father was not a perfect man—he would be the first to admit that. But his imperfections gave color to his character—he had a determination that you could describe as stubbornness; an intensity that could occasionally give one pause; a fortitude that at times made him seem aloof. But his imperfections were also strengths that gave his character its wonderful shape. His determination drove his success; his intensity fueled his passion; his fortitude made him the bedrock of his family. Though not a man who was comfortable with outward displays, he did show affection in his own way. He didn’t express it in a language that was easy to understand (his typical response to an “I love you” was to nod and grunt something that translated roughly to “I love you, too”), but once you learned his lingo, you could hear Sam Jordan say, “You are my friend,” “Thank you,” “I’m proud of you,” and even, “I love you,” loud and clear. Life without my father in it has been an adjustment, to say the least…so much of me is made of what I learned from him, and I still find myself reaching for the phone to share a thought with him that I know only he would understand. I do know that I would give up every new iPhone from now to eternity to hear him growl “I love you, too” one more time. So go celebrate all the fantastic men in your world and tell them how much you love them! DANA NIETERS PUBLISHER
Cyndy Etler; Dr. Amanda Kotis; Michelle Love; Melissa Lynch; Allan Purtill; Dori Rice
PO BOX 1000 | CORNELI US, NC | 28031
W W W. L A K E N O R M A N W O M A N . C O M AD SUBMISSIONS:
Lake Norman Woman reserves the right to deny any advertisement or listing that does not meet Lake Norman Woman standards. Submissions are welcome but unsolicited materials are not guaranteed to be returned. Lake Norman Woman assumes no responsibility for information, products, services, or statements made by advertisers or editorial contributors. An advertised special printed in this publication is subject to change without notice. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher is prohibited.