The Love of Our Father

In my last article, I wrote about my brother and one of my young sons who share the same name, Eddie Campbell; in this article, I would like to focus on the man that both of these Eddies were named after, my father, Edward "big Ed" Campbell. I write this on the day where he would've turned 80 years old, being called heaven 18 years ago at the relatively young age of 62, after suffering a sudden and massive heart attack. The same heart who during his lifetime inspired this quintessential father, typically prompting him to lead with his heart in most circumstances, and a heart that contained immeasurable love.

I was prompted to write this article when I was reminded of him yesterday as I came out our church's adoration chapel on this cool November morning to find my Honda Pilot windshield and hood speckled with a large number of soft crab apples which had fallen off the tree that I parked under. The expression "no good deed goes unpunished" came to mind as I was covering the holy hour for a good friend of mine. That being said, I have very little attachment to material possessions, and was not bothered by the large number of mushy crab apples covering my windshield, it however, served more as a trigger to an event involving my dad and him "making a visit" to a local church back home years ago.

My dad was a lifelong, very devout Catholic man who served as a tremendous role model to all of his children. He would begin each day with reading his Bible as well as his "lives of the Saints". My dad was a man full of compassion, strength, and gentle goodness. I can honestly say that I cannot remember a time where my father did not make the sign of the cross in the direction of and say prayer for the person in a passing ambulance.

As children, we were taught to never use the word "hate" in any circumstance, even if referring to an in animate object, as he gently reminded us to not be "uncharitable". This is not to say that he was ever uptight or puritanical in anyway, this gentle guidance of his just emanated and resonated from his inner goodness with true sincerity. Professionally, he was a writer, salesman, photographer, teacher, carpenter, and more; but above all, he was a Catholic father. I remember him teaching me at a young age that his love for family, which was so evident and tangible to me, was only superseded by his love for God. His faith and genuine love for God was all the more inspiring because of all the heartache and tragedy that he endured, but his faith always remained unshakable. His early years were often difficult as his own father struggled with alcohol addiction as a way of coping with and escaping from the pressures of being a coal miner in an era when it was extremely common to hear the emergency sirens signal that another tragedy had occurred. Then as a father himself, he had the unimaginable duty to have to bury three of his own children, two of which at very young ages, and the last of which, his first born, Colleen Rose, at the young age of 32. Through it all, he always remained very close to his faith, leaning on it during times of loss, clinging to it during times of despair.

All this leads me back to the story of my dad "making a visit." Years ago while he was a writer for the Connellsville PA newspaper, like most days, he found time to make a visit to a local Catholic church on his lunch break. He would stop in to be in the presence of our Lord, and to say a few prayers. As is the case, in January, in southwestern Pennsylvania, there is the ever present snow and ice everywhere. On this particular cold winter morning as my dad left the church and returned to his car, he found a large piece of ice had literally fallen from the church structure itself and smashed his windshield and caused other various damage to his car. Rather than being angry or blaming God, I think at the time, he almost found humor in the extreme nature of this bad luck event.

This incident serves as an example as to how my dad approached life in general, often being the eternal optimist in the face of adversity. I know that my dad found comfort in our God who is, Emmanuel, "God who is with us." Being a Christian means taking up your cross, walking with Christ, being crucified with Christ, but to then rise again with Christ. That is our faith. There will always be struggles, suffering, and pain; however, the promise of our amazing God, who humbled himself to walk with us and become one of us, is and was, to be with us through it all. Our God does not take away our pain or allow us to avoid suffering, but rather to console us and comfort us through it. Our God is Emmanuel, and this is the love of our Father.