Remembering dad...

It was two years ago today, that my amazingly wonderful dad left us for Heaven. It was a promotion he knew that he'd take, someday. None of us knew that someday would come so soon. 

My father was an amazing person. He never touched your hand without touching your heart. He was a teacher, a leader, a friend to all. He loved life more than anyone I've ever known and he taught each of us to do the same. He loved at all times, he always saw the good and always lived in love. My dad lived every day of his 69 years with compassion, integrity, love and hope. He strongly believed in making the world a better place. He loved to spend time with my mom and never left the house without leaving her a love note - most of them on yellow sticky pads that he'd leave in the kitchen. He loved nothing more than spending time with family and everyone who knew him, knew he never said good-bye. He always said, "Cheers" and coined the phrase, "Life is good" long before it became a name brand. I have no regrets with my dad. We always treated each other with respect and with kindness. There was never a harsh word spoken and never a time that we did not depart one another's company without a hug and a kiss. He always had a smile on his face. There's nothing I would change or want to do over. Not one thing! That is a gift to my soul. 

One of the things I loved most about my dad was his sense of humor. He enjoyed laughing and he gave us a few laughs along the way.  My siblings and I composed some funny memories that we had with my dad. My sister and I shared these at his memorial service. Now, I'll share them with you.

Once, on one of our frequent camping trips when we were kids, my dad had a small incident with the bar-b-cue. The coals were red hot, yet there wasn’t the flame dad wanted. So doing what any good engineer would do, he grabbed the lighter fluid bottle and shot it into the coals. The fluid caught fire and dad went up in flames.  We screamed and cleaned him up, all while he made us promise not to tell mom. Smelling of burnt hair and without eyelashes or eyebrows, it did not take long for mom to piece it all together. Did we mention that dad was an Eagle Scout?

Another memory that made us smile, was sitting in church with our dad one Sunday morning. Mom always sang in the choir and we were taught to sit, all five of us with my dad, extremely quietly through the entire service.  No talking, no drawing and absolutely no rolling or folding the bulletin.  We became quite proficient with our one hour of silence.  There was, however, a Sunday we all still remember.  Breaking the silence of the service, there came a loud “beep, beep, beep” coming from a wrist watch.  There was my dad, oblivious to the sound, intently setting his sermon timer on his watch. 

Growing up, we had a beautiful white Shepard named, King.  Although we picked him out as a puppy, it was quickly evident, because of his size and temperament, that he was dad’s dog. Dad took him through obedience classes and King only really listened to him.  During the day while my dad was at work, King would completely destroy my mom’s plants and flowers. He once ate an entire row of mom’s roses – bushes, thorns and all. Needless to say, King became a source of conflict for mom and dad. Mom lived for years with nothing but dirt in our backyard because of the dog. The day came when we began construction on a new home. Mom was adamant that the dog would not come and destroy the yard. At the end of a long, somewhat heated, discussion on the matter, mom finally said, “You’ll have to decide, Buck.  It’s me or the dog.”  Our dad patiently contemplated his response which quickly came, “I’ll have to think about it.”

There's not a day that I don't terribly miss my dad, but I'm grateful for the lessons and the love he's left with me. I'll always be so proud to be his daughter. I hope that someday, people might see some of him in me.