Quite a few years back I came upon a small book that left a lasting impression. Entitled “A Father’s Book of Wisdom,” the book is a compilation of bits of wisdom gathered by H. Jackson Brown from several boxes of materials found in his late father’s closet.

The book offered a great deal of good advice from a variety of sources including Brown’s father. I jotted down a few: In the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always wins — not through strength but by perseverance. There is never a wrong time to do the right thing. Success is getting what you want; happiness is liking what you get.

The book prompted some memories of my own father and the things he taught me. Unlike the author’s father, my dad never wrote down any of his thoughts. Come to think of it, he seldom verbalized such wisdom.

Oh, he shared a few things that might fit the description. For instance, after reluctantly agreeing to let me use the family car for a date he mumbled, “Now don’t go do something stupid like getting serious right away.” He didn’t want his kids to get married at 18 like he did. I agreed.

One time, while writing checks, he volunteered, “Don’t be afraid to borrow money, but be sure you always pay it back on time.”

I had to figure out the birds and bees on my own. Dad never shared the facts of life with me, though on several occasions he told me about the VD films he had seen while in military training. From the look on his face 20 years after the fact I could tell those films had left a lasting impression.

Most of the things Dad taught his children were more by example than by word. Through the way Dad lived his life, he taught us the value of hard work, the value of the family and the importance of faith in God.

Years ago while in a gift shop I saw a plaque that read, “The greatest gift a man can give his children is to love their mother.” When I read that I realized another important lesson Dad gave us.

By today’s standards Dad was not the most sensitive husband. I don’t recall him taking Mom to candlelight dinners or bringing home flowers. He was quite traditional in his view of the roles of men and women. Quite traditional indeed. And, like all of us, he had other human faults, too.

Over the years, however, we children had no doubts about his love for our mother. He worked long, hard days but always brought his paycheck home. Though he could give his kids a spanking to remember, I never knew him to strike our mother. And though he could be incredibly stubborn and independent at times, he always made Mom a part of his life.

One day years ago, Dad let me read a scrapbook he had kept while enroute to Europe on a troop ship in early 1946. While it is sometimes difficult for us to envision our parents as young sweethearts, Dad’s entries in this government-issued scrapbook revealed the emotions of a 19-year-old GI groom who had just left his new bride for military duty overseas. In his handwritten notes, Dad exposed a tenderness and romantic side I had not seen before. It helped me see past his stoicism.

As Dad grew older he became more demonstrative. He spent the last 30 months of his life in a nursing home. One of the most tender memories I have of those months is how, when Mom came to visit him, he reached out his large, palsied hand to take hold of Mom’s hand. As they sat, hand-in-hand, I could see back through the decades and envision the Army private and his honey and the love that kept their relationship intact through so many trials and difficulties over the years.

Dad didn’t leave us a book of wisdom, but he did give us a number of good lessons through example. And he gave us one of the greatest gifts a man can give his children: he loved our mother very much.

Were our parents still with us, they would have celebrated a very special day earlier this month. December 18 would have been the 76th wedding anniversary of the young soldier and his sweetheart.