There was never a man more difficult to shop for than my father.  

He would grin and look happy when a package was handed to him while not being even slightly interested in what might be inside. If we didn’t watch, I don’t think he would have even unwrapped the stuff he got. 

I always got a kick out of the Father’s Day advertisements because they painted a pretty accurate picture of what my dad wasn’t.They showed happy young fellows in plaid walking shorts and brightly colored polo shirts. Some carried tennis racquets, others stood around bags of golf clubs. Some had suits and briefcases and glanced with satisfaction at expensive watches. 

Who were these people? 

To start with, my dad never looked that young, and nobody with six kids to raise ever looked that fresh and energetic. And this stuff was out of the question. If we had given him everything pictured in every one of those ads we would have never seen any of it again. Unless maybe we caught him using a Ralph Lauren Polo to wash the car.  

Daddy would have continued to wear one of the two or three pairs of virtually identical pants he wore with one of the two or three identical shirts – no prints or patterns, no particular color, somewhere between formerly white and sort of tan. A button-down collar would have been a wild extravagance. 

I never saw him in a pair of shorts, a golf shirt, a T-shirt with anything written on it, tennis shoes, sweat pants or blue jeans. I think you can guess where he stood on Ascots and turtlenecks.  

As for other “gifty” items, he had a Timex, a pocket knife and a cigarette lighter. He was good to go. An extra coffee cup would have puzzled him. He saw no reason to display anything on a shelf or hang anything on a wall. While being one of the most fun-loving people I have ever known, he didn’t play games. No puzzles. Didn’t read books.  

My father had little and simply didn’t seem to want any more.  

It used to drive all the kids crazy and we never realized it was our own fault. Daddy wasn’t born that way – nobody was. Everybody starts off wanting stuff, but the ones who grow up and raise families get over it. They use up a lot of their wanting on other people.  

In my father’s case, I think he used just about all of it. With six kids, he was seventh in line for what little we had, tied with Momma. 

The kids came first, plain and simple, no question about it. You don’t buy yourself a tennis racquet until all three of your boys have baseball gloves, and field trips come before golf greens fees. Notebooks, eyeglasses, clothes, school stuff, doctors, toys… whatever. It all comes first. 

There are men who don’t see it that way. Some who won’t give up anything, including their time, and won’t even hang around. People still call them fathers. Well, you can call a lawnmower a helicopter, too, but it won’t fly. 

A big part of being a real one is looking out for others first. Yours might not be in the same league with mine, but if you got one of the good ones, I bet you can think of something he did without so you could have something. 

And he probably doesn’t want anything back. So, how do you shop for a man like that? You don’t.  

Give him something he can really appreciate – try to be more like he was.