12 YEARS
Grief is such a big and strange and complex beast. It’s been 12 years since my daddy went to meet Jesus. Some days it feels like it’s been the longest 12 years and other days it feels like a blink of an eye. I always have so much angst leading up to February 20. Some years the day feels like a regular day with a twinge of sadness and some years it feels like an elephant sitting on my chest.
As we came out of the hospital on the evening of February 20, after we had time to say our personal goodbyes, this was the beautiful sunset that the Lord painted in the sky. I’m so grateful that I took this picture. Now when I see a beautiful sunset, I feel a little closer to my dad. It’s as though Jesus is saying, “I painted this beautiful sky for you. Your dad sees you and loves you.”
In honor of today, I thought I would share 12 things about my dad: some of my favorite memories, things he taught me and sayings.
He always went against the grain. If there was ever something unjust happening in school, my dad was the first to knock on the principal’s door.
He often said, “Don’t quit job A, till you have job B.”
He was in Vietnam and his job was extremely dangerous. He was often in the middle of active fire fights. Growing up, he didn’t talk about his time in Vietnam often, but when he did he always said that it wasn’t about the fire fight outside, it was about the person you were in the foxhole with.
He always referred to my mom as “his bride.”
He taught me how to peel shrimp and crawfish, shuck oysters and crack crab legs.
He showed my brother and I what it looked like to care for aging parents. His dad (my grandfather) died when I was pretty young and after that he cared extensively for my grandmother. He never wanted to put her in a nursing home and did everything he could to make sure she was cared for in her own home with home health care nurses and the care he could give. After he died, my mom continued to honor that by moving my grandmother into our home and caring for her till she died 6 months later.
He taught me how to fish, drive a tractor and four wheeler, haul hay and ride a horse. It was January when he had his second heart attack and needed a quadruple bypass. He was so worried about who would put out hay and feed for the cattle. I was in 6th grade, so probably 11 years old. So I did what I needed to do and hauled hay and feed. He taught me well.
He loved to “philosophize.” Anytime you were in the car with him, he wanted to philosophize. I think that was just his words for talk about anything and everything. I can’t remember anything that he said during those times but I know he enjoyed that we just listened.
He taught me how to count change. On Friday nights, we would always go out to eat for dinner as a family. No one used credit/debit cards then, he always paid in cash and there was usually a pay stand versus paying at the table. Once the waiter brought the check, he would always give me enough money to go pay the bill and then when I came back to the table I had to count the change back to him.
If you have a sassy 13 year old daughter, the best thing you can do to break that sass is to take the door off of her room. I would know.
There was a period of time that our relationship was in a very bad place. For a lot of my high school years we rarely spoke and when we did it was through arguing. I was a head strong teenager who obviously knew what was best. He was a father with a lot of unresolved trauma and anger from Vietnam and the subsiding years. In his final years, after I had moved away to college, he started to soften. I don’t know if it’s because he knew his time on earth was limited or because the 1000s of prayers I had prayed for the Lord to break down his walls were answered or maybe a combination of both, but we were able to mend our relationship in those final years and I’m so so so grateful for that. God takes people and relationships that are broken and weary and heals them.
I always knew he was my biggest fan.