Dad's recorder!

There is something to be said for consistency, this Father's Day. Uncle Pat is gone and he was the preserver of the stuff of Grandma and Auntie. I am remembering the very touching tears my father cried when Auntie died. Not because he missed her so much. Not because she was gone, she had lived a long long life and we did miss her, but he broke into sobs when Uncle Pat uncovered a recorder with a taped piece of paper that said Tony on it. It came out of her drawer. We couldn't console him. We couldn't understand why.
When he got himself together, he told us the story of Auntie. He was 4 years old, or so he said. He was given a recorder and used it to squeal. Auntie promised him, "Boy, if you squeal in my ear one more time, the next time you see that recorder will be after I am gone." She lived into her 90's, late 90's. He sobbed, and I think he learned the lesson.
Tough love is love learned over seasons of life, at sunrises and at sunsets. Auntie was not his mother, but she was an example of real consistency.
What was that lesson?
God is compassionate. We are capricious.