Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is a tough day as it would have been my father's 60th birthday if he were alive today. He died way too early, at the age of 40. He left behind a loving wife and three kids. I was 15, my sister was 12, and my brother was just 7 at the time of his passing. I am so grateful for the precious time I got to spend with him. I have such a wealth of rich memories from being a child and the things I got to do with my father and how he loved me so much. I think about what an amazing grandfather he would have been to my two boys. They would have had an absolute blast being with him and knowing him--I can just see him on the floor giving them "horsey" rides, wrestling, and tickling each other. He would have built them a big treehouse in the backyard. I think the way I am most like my father is the love and passion I have for my family. It's just the way he felt about us. His love for me inspires me to be a better husband and father. His short life reminds me that each day is so very precious and to shower your family with all the love that you have.

I remember the last time I saw him alive. A family friend picked me up early from church that night and took me to the hospital where my mother, our pastor, and several people from church were already in his hospital room. The pastor asked me what my favorite memory of my father was and I broke down in tears, unable to answer. Words were said by some, prayers were prayed, and people slowly left the room. I stood as a statue in the room, not wanting to move or leave that place. It was just me and my dad one last time. His illness had taken so much from him, his ability to communicate, his ability to recognize us, his appearance, he was a shell of his former self. His eyes were filled with a look of pain and confusion and he was struggling for air. I remember going over to him two separate times to give him a big hug, to kiss him, and to tell him that I loved him as tears streamed down my face. It was at that moment that I felt with all my being that a heavy weight was lifted from him. The deep look of pain and struggle was visibly lifted from him. His eyes at that moment were filled with a true peace. At that moment I could feel his love for me and felt like he knew it was okay to let go. The pastor came in and told me it was time to go.

As my mother and I drove home I asked her if dad made it through the night, could I skip school the next day and sit with him at the hospital. She said she would think about, but she probably knew he wasn't going to make it til the morning. Around 2 or 3 in the morning on January 9, 1989, my dad went to be with the Lord. I was numb as my mom and I made our way back to the hospital. It didn't really hit me until my mother had me call a family friend from the hospital to tell them that my father had passed away. I don't remember if I was even able to get the words from my mouth. I didn't go to the funeral home to see my father. I wanted the last time I saw him to be while he was still living and breathing. He had a closed casket at his funeral. I think he had threatened my mom that he would jump out of his casket and get her if she had an open casket funeral for him. She didn't want to take any uneccessary chances. I remember thinking I had to be strong at his funeral, and how violently and painfully my jaw shook as I clinched it in an attempt to hold my tears in. It would have been so much better for me to have just let it all out.

My dad is my hero. My dad was the best in every way and I miss him every day. I am eternally grateful for the awesome memories I have of him. The pictures posted today are from right around the time I was born, just months before he graduated from Oklahoma State University. More picture will be posted tomorrow of him.

Happy Birthday Dad, I love you!