Twenty-six of the greatest lessons I was ever taught.

This is a chapter from The ABCs of Dan M. Wilson.

One of my favorite reoccurring events during my childhood was whenever Dad would clean out his dresser. Why, you ask? Because this meant that I was going to be offered various pieces of what I would call treasure but were mainly items that he no longer had a use for at all.

Over the years I received everything from his old City Clerk badge – which looked just like a police officer’s badge and was just as heavy – to his expired notary public seals. These were not your typical “gifts” that most other boys on the block had access to, so I felt privileged to be receiving them and couldn’t wait to show them off.

It was during one of these massive clean outs that he parted ways with what would become my first pocketknife. I must have been nine or ten years old when he presented me with this ivory handled beauty. Along with the knife came a change in my own stature in my father’s eyes, as I assumed I had reached a level of maturity in order to be receiving a weapon of sorts. I knew Grandma Pat was reluctant to let me use a steak knife at the dinner table but here, at last, was my own knife.

“Kenny Mike? With anything sharp you have to remember your ABCs. Always be careful.”

While I was holding this penknife and dreaming of all the things I could do with it Dad delivered a quick piece of practical advice and introduced me to mnemonic devices at the same time:

“Kenny Mike? With anything sharp you have to remember your ABCs. Always be careful.”

I believe it was at that point that the gifting of the knife took a backseat to what I had just learned about my father. Here was a man that not only doled out “incredible” gifts but also gave out advice in a way that I could easily understand and remember.

Because Grandpa Dan worked tirelessly at his regular job as well as spending countless hours involved in city politics, I never had a chance to really spend much time with him outside of family television time. But here in an instant he went from being just my father to being a powerful sage as well. Mom was no longer the only person I could go to for answers and advice. This proved to be a watershed moment in my life in regards to the relationship I would have with Dad going forward. Who knew, eh?

From this point onward I found myself changing my own schedule and routine simply to be able to spend more time in his presence. Our Sunday afternoon ritual of watching movies together was born out of this need and desire to be near my father. One could say that my real relationship with Dad began on a forgotten Sunday when he entrusted me with a silly pocketknife.

Just about any time I find myself reaching for a knife or any sharp item, I can hear his deep voice resonating in my head to heed my ABCs. And on any given day I can hear this same deep voice reminding me of the thousands of pieces of advice he handed over to me throughout the 33 years I knew him. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t find myself thinking about him and of all the wonderful life lessons he taught me.

And it is with this book that I plan on sharing the best ones with you, my own son…