My Daddy

My daddy went to be with Jesus on June 12, 2009, just a week before Father's Day weekend.  Since then, Father's Day brings memories of funerals and loss.  But it also brings wonderful memories as well.  I had the world's best Daddy!  I realize that you may think you had/have the best Daddy in the world.  I won't try to change your mind.  I'll just share with you a few of the things I loved about my daddy.

Daddy worked in the Post Office.  He had spent his entire life, except for his years in the Navy during World War II, in our little town.  As a little girl, I didn't know or understand a lot about that.  I just knew that at the end of the work day when he came home, he was never too tired or too busy for big hugs, for playing with blocks, for reading stories (even though he occasionally did try to skip a few pages!)......never too busy or too tired for his little girl!

Daddy was friendly and outgoing.  He loved people!  He always had a smile ready.  At the same time he was also a very serious person.  He loved to read.  He loved poetry.  He could still quote his favorite poems.....without missing a single word!......at the end of his life.  I always admired, and envied, that ability.  He loved a good joke!  And he didn't have much use for television.  He thought it was mostly a waste of time.  Except for the Evening News with Walter Cronkite, of course!

Daddy had a reputation, not entirely undeserved, of being cheap!  "Tight with money" is the phrase I often heard used.  But in reality, Daddy was one of the most generous people I have ever known.  He would give you the shirt off his back or the shoes off his feet.  But he definitely didn't like to waste money!  As a child of the Depression, he remembered well what it had been like to be in want.  And so he was "careful" (his word!) with money so we didn't ever have to go there again.  I'm grateful to him for that, although I likely never told him how much I appreciate the lessons he taught me.

One of my favorite memories comes from my early childhood.  A local farmer had a new bull, so Daddy took me out to see it.  As I stood on the fence rails watching that bull stomp and snort, I was understandably terrified.  Daddy calmly explained to me that he would protect me, that he would get between me and that bull, that if necessary he would let the bull hurt him so that no harm would come to me.  I later came to see that as a beautiful picture of what Christ has done for me.......taken the pain of sin so that no harm comes to me.....protected me from the power of sin.  Thank you, Daddy, for teaching me this lesson.

We were members of First Baptist Church, Landrum.  The church my daddy grew up in.  The church his ancestors had helped to found back in 1803.  Daddy loved his church.  As long as his health permitted, he attended regularly.  He was a Deacon in that church.  For many years he was the director of one of the adult departments.  At his funeral, I was so amazed at the number of people who commented on poems he had quoted in Sunday School assemblies, and how much that had meant to them.  Daddy definitely made an impact in people's lives.  Not just mine, but so many others.  Thank you, Daddy.

Daddy loved music.  In his later years, he had great joy in listening to Gaither Homecoming Videos.  He would sometimes sing along when he thought no one was listening!  As a child he had learned to play the piano, although he rarely played as an adult.  The one song he still remembered how to play was "I Will Sing of My Redeemer".  I never hear that hymn without thinking of Daddy!  When I was a little girl, we often sang together when we were in the car together, particularly on long road trips (or what seemed like long trips.....not nearly so long these days now that we have interstate highways!).  The hymn we most often sang was an old gospel favorite...."Trials dark on every hand and we cannot understand all the ways that God would lead us to that blessed Promised Land.  But He'll guide us with His eye and we'll follow 'til we die.  And we'll understand it better by and by."

Daddy was a devoted caregiver.  He cared for his parents after he got out of the Navy when his mother had cancer and his father had his first stroke.  After my grandmother's passing, he continued to look after his dad.  Granddaddy lived with us part of the year (and with Aunt Maggie the rest of the time).  He was with us when he died.  And Daddy was my mother's caregiver for the last ten years of her life.  He was devoted to his beloved Helen, and his last years without her were lonely ones for him.

I learned so many things from my daddy.  How to ride a bike.  The value of a dollar.  To be a person of my word. A strong work ethic. A commitment to excellence.  That if something is worth doing, it's worth doing your best. To love unconditionally.  So many things.  Most importantly, from both my parents I learned to love Jesus.  I learned about what is really important in life.  For that, I am eternally grateful.  I love you, Daddy, and I miss you so much.  But I'll see you again!