Happy Father's Day to all...
Moms, Kids, Uncles and Aunts Included!

"Because I have given, I have received so very much in return."

That quote is a favorite of mine, and it's given me some food for thought lately. In fact, I heard this same sentiment expressed just this week by one of Kansas City's most respected businessmen and philanthropists, Barnett Helzberg. When asked what his life's greatest joy is, he didn't hesitate to respond:

"The joy of giving back to others."

Before you read further, friends, take note: This is not a message on the importance of giving. Instead, I want you to consider the impact of giving, or what I call the "echo of giving."
Here's what I mean: I gave a speech a few years back following the publication of my book, Lunchmeat & Life Lessons: Sharing a Butcher's Wisdom. It wasn't my best presentation and I knew it. Worse, I knew the audience agreed with my assessment. I left the stage and my confidence fell through the floor. Why wasn't I more prepared? Why hadn't I projected more emotion? Why didn't I connect with my audience?

A moment later, a man came up to me and took both my hands in his. Who was this person? His presence startled me as I was lost in my own thoughts. I'll never forget his words:

"I don't know what you said or what your message was as you spoke to our group," he began. "I didn't hear a word of it. All I know is that you stood in front of us and told us you were going to share some wisdom from the greatest man you ever knew: Your father."

I could see where this was going... he was ready to clobber me for my ineffective keynote address. Here it comes, I thought!

But wait. No, that wasn't it at all. The stranger continued, looking me straight in the eyes:

"You see," he continued, "I'm a new father. I left my six week old baby girl for the first time this week so that I could come to this convention and all I could think of as you spoke for the last hour is how can I be the kind of father to my daughter that your father was to you? How can I create that love, loyalty and lasting impact in her life? Thank you for inspiring me to be the best father I can be."

I couldn't speak for a moment. I simply held his hands tighter.

He walked away and I knew that something incredible had happened. It didn't matter that I thought I had delivered a poor presentation. My words had connected with someone in a powerful way. I had given of myself -- and he had received.

So what about the echo of that giving? Undoubtedly that businessman went home with a new way of thinking. A changed direction in being a father to that new baby girl. A re-organized list of life's priorities. And I bet that echo resonates on to this very day. In turn, he gave of himself to another person who received and embraced that simple gift.

On and on it goes. The circle of life. The echo of giving.

Remember my own father's words as you give of yourself to others... you receive so very much in return. I know I did that day.

Finally, to that gracious new dad who touched both my hands and my heart back in 2006,
I wish you a very special Father's Day 2011.
All the best!

Mary B. Lucas

My sister Jeannie told me this story about Mom and I think it sums up what Mom thought about “passion” in a marriage...

Jeannie and her husband had made some changes to their house and asked Mom to come down for a visit. During the tour of the new construction, they were walking through the master bathroom when Mom noticed Jeannie’s tattered flannel nightgown hanging on the hook behind the door.

Mom looked at that nightgown, then looked at Jeannie. “Jean Marie is that what you wear to bed with your husband?”

Jeannie nodded sheepishly, clearly embarrassed by the question. “Yes, Mom.”

“Jean Marie, let me give you some advice,” Mom said in a firm but controlled tone. “If you want to have a happy marriage you NEVER wear flannel to bed.”

Although Mom and Dad’s marriage could definitely be described as passionate and fiery, I assure you they weren’t always in the “no flannel zone.” In fact she could be pretty hard on him, prompting him to tell her at times that they’d get along better if she would treat him as if he were one of her children.

Dad was right; Mom would always celebrate our homecomings. Whenever any of us would arrive home from school Mom was there to wrap us in her arms and shower us with hugs and kisses. That was not always the case with Dad’s homecomings, where he would sometimes chide her by saying “Hey, what about me?”

Just because Mom didn’t always greet Dad in the same way she welcomed us kids, doesn’t mean she didn’t anticipate his arrival. Every evening around five o’clock Mom would splash on a little Shalimar Perfume and grab one of those pencils used to mark the packages at the meat market to fill in her brows.

Sometimes Mom would even put on some of the Mary Kay make-up she had bought from her friend Penny and she always clipped on a pair of earrings. Then she would have all of us kids line-up, kind of like the Von Trapp family, ready to give our Daddy plenty of hugs and kisses.

Those are my memories of Mom at her best with Dad. I might also add that Mom would be the first to admit that as a couple they also had some not so great times.

One time I told Mom about a couple I knew that was getting divorced. "What happened?" Mom asked.“I guess they are getting divorced because they have had a bad few years and can’t seem to get past it.” I speculated.

“A bad few years?” she asked indignantly. “That’s nothing! Your Father and I have had bad years - heck we have had bad decades but I would not trade the life we share now as parents, grandparents and great grandparents for anything in the world.”

Good decades, bad decades... I'd say that given the fact that Mom and Dad were married for over SIX decades and had ten kids, I think we can safely assume that there were plenty of nights when Mom followed her NO FLANNEL rule!

As promised I pulled another page from my "Mom Journal" to share this week.

I think this excerpt in particular sums up the love she felt for ALL of her children.

And the story goes...

“I did NOT have 10 children because I am catholic. I had 10 children because I wanted each and every one!”


Mary Helen Matson Bichelmeyer was born November 9, 1917 on Strawberry Hill in Kansas City, Kansas. She was an only child, a life she often referred to as lonely. Her parents owned a small business where the family spent most days and nights. Her father was a bootlegger and instigator of illicit poker games and her mom was a bartender.

While some may have questioned their lifestyle, no one could question their deep love and devotion to their only child, Mary. They adored her and my Grandpa affectionately called her Babe. And while Babe loved her parents, she dreamed of having a family just like her friend Winnie.

Mom used to talk about how Winnie’s home was loud and always filled with love and laughter. Winnie was one of ten children so her house was always bustling with activity with people coming and going. After spending time around Winnie’s big family, this only child knew exactly what she wanted when she grew up and lo and behold, she went on to have ten children of her own.

Don’t let the fact that Mom was more understated than Dad fool you into thinking she wasn’t every bit as strong as he was. When she felt her children were ridiculed or ostracized, her “mama bear” instincts became fully engaged, even when she was lying on her deathbed in the hospital.

When the third shift nurse came in to check mom’s vital signs she asked about the picture on the bedside table. “Are all those people really members of her family?” She asked incredulously as she pulled the thermometer from Mom’s mouth. “How many children did you have?” When mom told her that she had ten children the nurse laughed. “You must be Catholic.”

At this point Mom was pretty delicate and her voice was quite hoarse from having had a tube down her throat, but the nurse’s comment raised her ire and she mustered the energy to pull herself up.

“I did not have 10 children because I am Catholic,” She pointed directly at the nurse, her low, raspy voice sounding like something from “The Exorcist.” “I had 10 children because I wanted each and every one!”

From the look on the nurse’s face it was clear she got the message. Even though none of us kids ever questioned Mom’s love for us, her words of validation had a profound impact on those of us lucky enough to be in the room that day.

Even as she struggled to be heard, gasping for her last breaths, her message of her deep love for each of her ten children came across loud and clear.