October 22, 2002

You know that feeling that comes over the atmosphere right before September 11th every year? That eery feeling of how you were living life as usual and then out of nowhere the world changed. I've heard many people say that each year they relive that whole week in their minds and the stress of just thinking about it in that way causes anxiety like it was truly happening again.

That happens to me each year the third week of October too. Six years ago today I was in Abilene for a wedding and Jason's truck was having some problems. I called my dad from Abilene for advice on what to do and my normally very loving, cheerful and helpful daddy was irritated and quick to get off the phone. He said he wasn't feeling good-a stomach bug maybe, but he wasn't in a good mood. The day before, we had had a great day together waiting for Jason to get off of work. We ate lunch together and watched A Knight's Tale-Daddy's first time and he loved it just like I knew that he would. We got home late that night and the next night went to play games at a friend's house. I came in late to my parents' house that night too (we were living with them while our house was being remodeled) and heard my dad call to me to get him a wet washcloth. He had fever and needed to cool down. I was sure he had a virus. Tuesday morning I went to work as usual-Daddy seemed better...even cheerful. Mama told me later that he rode around in his work truck with my brothers just watching because of his broken and casted leg. Then, at 2:15 I get a call at work that Daddy has collapsed at home and the ambulance is taking him to the ER. My uncle was there and drove me to the hospital right behind the loud sirens of the ambulance. My brother, being trained in ER told us when we got there that they don't turn on the sirens unless it's really serious. We waited and waited. Then a doctor came to tell me, my mom and my two brothers, all holding hands that they were "doing everything we can to save his life". My mom lost the muscles in her legs and we had to hold her up. The mom I had before that moment left forever in that moment. More waiting all day. About 100 people showed up to honor Daddy and give support. Some brought food even to the hospital. Most stayed for the long hall. Some good news came when they moved Daddy to ICU and told us he had a blood clot in his leg that they needed to break up. They said he would be there at least five days. Jason and I went home to get mom some food and her meds, but never made it there. On the way, a friend called to say that I needed to come back immediately and by the time we got there, no one was allowed in his room because the doctors were working on him. My mom was in the corner on the floor crying and praying. I paced I think for a while. Finally, the door opened and without a word, I knew what the outcome had been by the look on the group of doctors faces. His longtime general practicioner came out with his head hung and that's when I knew. Jason tells me that I screamed, but I don't remember that. I couldn't hear a sound. All of the sudden I was on the phone listening to the tears of friends, more like family that were far away and wanting desperately to be there with us. Eventually, that group of thirty or so that had stayed to the end, ended up in my daddy's room overlooking his peaceful, lifeless body. Nothing felt right. In the two hours before he passed, my dad struggled to breathe using all of his strength to make sure that his own father knew that Daddy was going to Heaven and that he wanted him to go to. He told his dad to "trust Jesus" and to talk to my mom later with all the questions he must have. The only thing I knew to do in that moment to honor this amazing man was to sing. I knew then and know now that Daddy was absent from his body, but present with God and so we sang a song of hope for the day we will all be together again. Thirty people in a room, holding hands, singing through tears "When We All Get to Heaven".
Three days later we had a funeral with more than 400 people there to honor my dad. Our grief was softened when, after the gospel was presented, a childhood friend of my dad's came down that day to make a profession of faith in Christ.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't miss my daddy. He is by far the best man I've ever known on this earth. I am grateful and feel like royalty to have had him as my father. Amazingly, I see him in my little girl. Her bright blue eyes, sweet smile and her love for people and for all things fun. She knows how to truly live just like my dad. Someday, I'll get to introduce her to him and he'll hand her all the balloons he's collected for her that she's let go through the years.