Dear Dad,

 

Dear Dad,

As I currently write this, it has been 82 days, 22 hours and 45 minutes since you took your last breath. A day that seems so long ago, but a day that I think about every single day. 

As  I sat in a chair at the foot of your hospital bed on the evening of March 29th. Mama was on your right side, Christal on your left. I sat by myself at the foot of your bed because all of this was too surreal for me. I could not believe that this is how it was ending. In my mind, COVID was not supposed to be the end of your story. I still hoped that you were going to fully recover. In a moments time, you were going to miraculously get better, you would walk out of the hospital wearing your freshly ironed shirt that Mama had hanging in her car on the way to Winston Salem. 

I am so thankful that we had our final moments together hours before. I entered your room and you knew that I was there. We held hands and I pleaded for Jesus to heal your body. You nodded as the tears fell from my eyes onto your hand. However, God had other plans, his perfect plan. His plan was to take you to your eternal home. A place of no sickness, pain, feeding tubes, wires, needles or ventilators. But as I sat there hearing you take your final breaths, I just wanted to run. I wanted to scream. I could not look up and watch the numbers on your monitor dip because that would mean that my Dad, my hero, the only man who never broke my heart was leaving me. 

I have learned that grief comes in waves. Sometimes I drown in grief, other times I float along and smile at memories that we shared. A couple of weeks after you left I sat on the beach and cried as I watched Addison and Finn play. So thankful that my sunglasses blocked my tears. Another time it hit me like a ton of bricks as I washed dishes and my eyes glanced up at your childhood home. I sat in the floor of my kitchen and cried, paralyzed by your loss. 

I especially did not want your exit to be during the messiest season of my life. I wanted you to stick around for the next chapter of my life. The one where I have life all figured out. 

I wanted to make you proud by having a successful career, a great marriage and all of the "important" things. Even so all of those things are important. I am thankful that you always taught us the true meaning of success. 

I read a quote earlier this week that said "do not live for the praise of man, but for the one with nail scarred hands." (Mark Batterson) This describes you perfectly as you ministered to many without them even knowing. You were the one who would always notice things that others did not. Many times on a Saturday you could be found washing the church vans without anyone knowing or helping someone in need that no one knew about. You listened and heard the desires of my heart, like the day that you randomly showed up at my door with a wash board as you recalled me saying two years ago that I had looked for an authentic one. You had looked at flea markets and yard sales ever since until you found an authentic one. 

A couple of days after you left us, Christal and I sat with Mom and a young girl whom we did not know came to the door with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She sat and told us of how you prayed with her in Ingles after the passing of her father when she was having a rough time. She said that it meant a lot to her and she wanted to share. It is just like you to do this. to help someone or brighten their day without thinking anything of it or needing the applause of anyone. 

You would be so proud of Mama! She is doing such a great job keeping up with the yard and the house. I know that you know that it isn't an easy task! She is even driving the tractor and plans on taking the grand kids on tractor rides, just like you used to do! She has went to the beach and she continues to put one foot in front of the other. I am so proud of her too! 

I miss you and your presence in Addison and Finn's lives. I miss seeing you pick up Addison for school and taking her out for breakfast like you occasionally did. I miss seeing Finn grab his seat for a haircut in your chair or having you pick him up to go fishing on a Saturday morning. 

Dad, know that you are so very loved. So very missed, but your legacy remains. We are better because of how you loved and sacrificed for us. And until I see you again, I will strive to make you proud by living for approval for the one with nail scarred hands. 

XOXO