Memories of my Daddy

me and Daddy at the academic sweater ceremony the spring of my Junior year--taken in the spring of 1992 (I was 16 here)

Daddy's been gone for eight years today. It doesn't seem like that long ago...and yet it seems like a hundred lifetimes. I don't think a person can truly understand what that is like unless you've actually lost someone significant. My friend Jen and I were talking today about it just today (she lost her father two years ago). I came to the conclusion a while back that while the intense grief does fade to some extent, it never fully goes away--you just learn to live with it...an altered state, so to speak. I don't dwell on it, but it's days like today--and then sometimes it's just random moments here and there--that make me stop and remember. And as I do, I just wanted to share a few of the things I miss about my dad.

Daddy was so funny. He had an amazing sense of humor and was master of the quick retort. I always loved watching him gently tease the sweet, old ladies and the kids at church--and just about anyone else in between! And he could always work a room. He had a charm and charisma that drew people to him. I'm sure that he had his fair share of dissenters, but Daddy was just one of those people who always seemed to be in control, and you were very comfortable with him in that position because his decisions just made sense. I know that I am remembering him through a child's eyes for the most part, but even as I grew up, I was able to recognize his wisdom and intelligence. He was an amazing leader and even though he never led anything of significant size, his leadership meant the world to the people he led. The standing-room only situation at his funeral was such a beautiful picture of all of the lives that he had touched in his 47 years.

I miss holding his hand. I always liked Daddy's hands. They were strong and firm. His fingernails were very flat and I was always fascinated by that and I would rub them with my the pads of my fingers. I also miss his hugs. Daddy wasn't very tall--maybe 5'9" or so (?), but I'm pretty short (5'2") so we fit really well. And I can only describe it by saying that no one can hug you like your Daddy--and I'll just have to leave it at that. I remember a dream I had a few weeks after he'd died. I was in the living room and mom was in the kitchen fixing dinner and Daddy came in. I asked him where he'd been and he said in a slightly exasperated voice, "I've been on a business trip--you knew that." And then he hugged me--he always hugged us when he came in from work. While he was hugging me, I could see the door that he'd just walked through and I saw a friend of mine standing there and, when I saw the friend, I realized that it was just a dream...but I kept hugging him, thankful for one last chance.

Other things I remember about Dad...I loved the way he would grade homemade flyers and signs that were hanging up. We'd be in the foyer at Wal-Mart waiting for mom to check out and he'd take out his pen and start "grading" the signs. He'd mark the grammatical mistakes and actually assign it a number grade and usually a comment about what needed to be worked on. It cracked me up!

I remember us all playing with him in the yard in the spring while we waited for mom to fix dinner. Barefoot in the grass...throwing a football or hitting a softball--neither very well! But having fun all the same. We'd all go for walks after dinner sometimes and I can still remember the mingling smells of honeysuckle and grass and cool evening air. And then on Saturdays when it was time to get stuff done around the house--which meant he made a list and we each had a job! ugh!! Washing the cars...cleaning out the shop (which somehow never stayed very cleaned out), helping with house chores.

I remember how he would stand with one hip locked. We found pictures of him standing that way when he was probably only 7 or 8 years old. He never lost that stance and it was very characteristic of him.

Daddy could whistle really loudly--and I mean REALLY loudly! And he loved to do it just to surprise you! It was always funny when he did it...to someone ELSE! And he'd do it to get your attention sometimes. To this day, when I hear someone whistle like that, I still involuntarily look up. He also used to snap his fingers to get your attention when it was quiet, and I find that I do that too now.

Daddy loved to talk and it didn't always matter if you knew what he was talking about or not. If he was interested in something, he would tell you all about it. And I didn't always follow what he was talking about, but I'd always follow along and ask questions simply because I loved to listen to him. He loved to research things and learn new things. I loved that about him. I remember one time Clint had come over to the house and made the mistake of asking Daddy some seemingly simple question about something technological and that's all it took! So mom and Erica and I sat in the kitchen laughing at Clint while Daddy proceeded to tell him anything and everything he didn't want to know about whatever he'd asked about! Oh, that was SO funny!

Daddy was a man of great faith. He was a mature believer and he led his family in the ways of the Lord. I remember the night that I became a believer. We were at home sitting on my bed and it was my Daddy who led me to the Lord. He was always a godly man and I am thankful for the example that he set and the life that he led because it was real and authentic. It wasn't a show--it was his heart.

I remember wrestling with my emotions when he was diagnosed with cancer--not able to imagine a world without him. And he was so calm. Hopeful yet trusting in that whatever happened would be God's will. And I remember seeing him in his recliner early one morning as I got ready for school. It was just a few days before he died and he was in such pain. As I stood there watching him, I said a prayer releasing him to God. I didn't want to see him suffer, so If God were going to take him, my prayer was to please let it be soon. And I remember being so surprised when God actually did that because I thought that if I let him go, God would heal him and give him back. It took me a long time to get to a place where I could begin to see beyond the grief and to trust God again. My relationship with God until that point had always been very safe and untested but this was where the gloves came off, so to speak. Looking back, I can see so clearly how I've changed and grown through this experience and all of the things God has taught me about his love and sovereignty.

As I go back and read what I've written, I laugh at myself. I actually wrote something else a while back about the day he died and I was going to post that, but decided not to because it's rather heavy. So I've done a great job of staying light, haven't I?! And as I write this, there are a million other little stories and thoughts that I've edited out. It's been eight years, but he is still very much a part of my life. I cherish all of the memories. And for those of you reading this who loved him too, I'd love for you to comment and share any of the memories you may have of him. And if you're reading this having never met the man, just know that he was amazing and I hope you'll one day have the opportunity to meet him in eternity!

Blessings,
Beth


Our last family photo--taken in the fall of 1996