Remembering a Loving Father: Mort Evans


Casey Lang

Ms. Casey Lang with her loving father Mort Evans

Casey Lang, Guest Writer

My dad was a man who stood by his convictions but by his friends even more.   A man who was quick to laugh and to seize every moment for all the life it had in it.  My dad was not a very tall person, but to me – he was like a mountain: strong, never in the shadows, and could sustain life where others thought it was not possible. I will miss all things about my dad…  but  I want to share with you the man/the dad I have come to know through my teens and adulthood.

My dad used to jokingly say, “do as I say, not as I do.”  But Dad, I know you were joking because you taught me so many life lessons through your daily journey …

The first lesson is to Seize the moment: don’t live life with regrets. You can make apologies, but don’t go through your life saying: I wish I had, or that could have been fun.  When dad saw there was fun going on, he was determined to not be left out.  If there was an opportunity for adventure, advancement, or just a new scene – he was the first to sign up.  I often could not keep up with my dad’s numerous trips, many of them planned on a day’s notice.

The second lesson I learned somewhat pertains to the outcome of the first lesson. When you do wrong: own it.  But more importantly – move on.  Don’t beat yourself up over mistakes.  And don’t let others beat you up over them either.  Just move on and go back to seizing the moment.  To dad, a new day was just that: a fresh start.  Dad would say, “Don’t tell me what you did; tell me what you are going to do.”

The third lesson I learned – to be authentic.  Don’t let the world shape who you are; you shape the world. Dad certainly lived up to this one – and you know this if you ever tried to change his mind.   However, he valued you being authentic too – at the end of the day, you could have a passionate discussion, but he respected those who are authentic because, as dad would say, “you know where they stand.”  And then the second lesson fits in well here – own it, and move on, preferably with laughter and a strong handshake.

…. I miss you, dad.