Daddy-O

I've been avoiding the blog.  Obviously.  Two and a half months have passed since I last posted.  My dear, dear Dad went to be with Jesus at the beginning of March after such suffering.

My sister threw the gauntlet down when we were on our way to be with Dad near the end.  We should talk at his funeral, she said.  Those of you who know our family, who know my amazing sister, know that public speaking is not done lightly or joked about.  She hates it.  If she thought we should do it, I knew that it was as good as decided.

Carla:

He was a great listener and always had time to talk.

He gave great cooking advice and thanks to him, my family is able to eat something other than frozen pizza and Chik-Fil-A.

He loved to hold our babies and honestly was a bit of a baby hog.

Me: 

He and Mom appreciated the simple things in life: cheap bananas, Starbucks coffee, field trips to Cedar Falls and Sam's Club.

He invested in lives in big and small ways.  He loved coaching cross country.  The ice buckets, the water coolers, the stretching mats... most of all: his runners.  His last year of coaching was while he was on oxygen and the team made these amazing shirts and all wore them.  On the back were things we love about Sam.  Here are a few: he lets us eat more tootsie rolls than bananas, he calls riding in a van, answering questions and eating ice cream a practice, We convinced him that golf courses are only for cross country.

One of his runners wrote and sent a letter to Dad before he died and I wanted to share a part of it: "And what I wanted to express to you beyond compassion or sympathy was thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving for your impact on my life and the lives of so many others and my appreciation of your character and wisdom.

Although I have never been exceptionally fast or thrilled by the thought of racing, being coached by you taught me to love running as a past time - for the calm and joy of it.  For its amazing way of clearing my head and refreshing my spirit.  And even now I often think of you on early morning runs as I step outside on a warm, dewy morning.

Your faith in God and Jesus Christ has also been an example to me and so many others.  When I think of you, it's impossible to separate your faith from your character or your job or your family.  It weaves into everything you do.  You always seemed to take the ups and downs of life in stride with calm and perspective that is so rare to find in our busy world.  I suspect that calm and wisdom you demonstrate comes from your understanding of our Creator and your trust in his most capable hands in a unimaginable love."

Dad loved to play golf and teach golf and talk golf.  He wasn't known for his long hitting ability but he was a gamer.  When he got on the green - watch out.  He loved to sink a long putt to beat all of the long hitters.  We learned a love of the game from him.  But playing with me always took some patience as my game lacked a bit of the polish that my sister's game had.  But my best was always good enough for Dad.  He celebrated the good shots and just didn't say a whole lot about the eights and tens on the score card.

Carla:

He gave great gifts.  He had a knack for finding the perfect gifts for all three of the women in his life but especially my mom.  He was able to find things to fit her petite 5'1" frame like nobody else could.  This past Christmas I had offered to help him shop for mom since I knew this would be difficult but I didn't want to push the issue.  One night he called and asked how we were doing on Christmas gifts.  I told him I was done but I hadn't gotten anything for him to give to mom because he hadn't given me any ideas.  He suggested a Dyson vacuum.  This may sound like a strange idea if you don't know my mom very well but in true Dad fashion, he found the perfect gift once again.  If you stop by the house you may just find my mom vacuuming with her new Dyson and a huge smile on her face.

He was wise.  He didn't always say a lot but he always knew what to say.  He had some good one liners: 

1. It doesn't have to be a perfect day to be a good one.

2. God didn't promise a smooth ride but he did promise a safe landing.

Me:

He adored our mom.  He wanted to spend time with her, he loved being at home with her... He treasured her and cherished her.  Their sweet love for each other is an amazing gift of God's grace.  The bar was set pretty high for these lovely guys that we married.

My dad loved our kids.  Carla mentioned that he loved our babies, but he also loved watching them grow.  He also seemed to frequently comment on how nice their hair was - possibly hair envy?  It made me so very sad to realize he wouldn't golf with the kids, fish with them and they would possibly not remember much of their time with him.  However, he gave them something far more precious than killer putting skills or running tips.  He walked with Jesus and left a legacy of faith.  I pray each day that my children will know Jesus as my dad did - as their rescuer and greatest hope.

He showed us how to say we are sorry because he was humble and apologized when he was wrong.  Dad knew he had been forgiven and given grace because of Jesus' great love for him.  He knew his hope wasn't in being good or perfect but that his hope was in Jesus' work and the grace he had been freely given.

When I said good-bye to him a couple of weeks ago, I told him that I would be forever grateful for his faith because he had shown me the person of Jesus.  To which he responded: "Jesus is my main man."

"So we do not lose heart.  Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.  For this light and momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.  For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." 

And that was that.  There won't be a day that doesn't go by that I don't miss him.  But as a sweet gal said about her mother after she had died, "I'm thankful that I have so much to miss."  Yes.  So much to miss.  And grateful beyond measure to have called him "Dad".