Growing up, I was a daddy's girl. I was always under feet, always pestering, always vying for his attention. We always had so much fun together doing even the most mundane things. He would take me to work with him on many a Saturday. My dad worked for Portasan which is a company that rent out porta-potties. My dad drove the tanker... enough said. Even though the surroundings were smelly and gross, getting to ride in the big truck, having him sing songs with me, and tell me stories more than made up for it. I can readily admit that most of the biblical knowledge I have today did not come from bible college, or the Honor Academy, or my own study, but from those work days.
I was his little helper. I loved working along side him in the garage. Thanks to dear old dad, I know how to use all kinds of tools, so well that I can build things fairly well on my own. I can also thank my pops for my good sense of direction. I can get to where I need to go or find my way pretty well on my own.
Dad was silly. He always had corny jokes, a big smile and a great laugh. He would on occasion do Bill Cosby's "Jello" voice and I adored him for it. I thought he was the funniest man alive. I do believe my knack for all things ridiculous came from him.
Dad had a love for Dr. Pepper, and he had his cup to prove it. I'm not talking your run of the mill 12oz cup... this thing was a massive, monster of a cup it probably held something like 120oz. This cup went everywhere with him, work, church, family dinners, you name it. If dad was there so was his cup. He even named it, his first cup was Pete. Pete was with us for a while, but with as much as dad used it, Pete eventually went to big-cup-heaven. So of course dad had to get a new cup... his new cups name? Repeat. (get it?) After a while Repeat went to be with Pete and Jesus, so naturally dad got a new cup... He called it Three-Pete. Maybe I get my urge to name every inanimate object from my dad.
When Beauty and the Beast came out on VHS, I was ecstatic... I must of seen that movie 8 or 10 times in the theaters previously, but even that didn't squelch my joy. I will never forget the day that daddy and I got it from the store. He was off, and it was just the two of us for the day. I remember dancing in front of the Mickey Mouse Club on t.v. while dad was in the kitchen cooking my favorite food as a 3-year-old, hot dogs of course. As we ate I snuggled up next to my daddy and just enjoyed the movie I love most.
As a teenager, my interest's changed and so did my conversations with dad. He would ask me questions on the things I was going through and challenge my thinking on many of my conclusions. During these deep conversations, He at some point would stop and say "Becca, I don't have much time left to teach you all the things I want to." At the time I took that to mean that I was growing up, so he wanted to impart as much wisdom as he could before I was too old to listen. But since he's been gone there are sometimes I wonder if he didn't have some idea that his life would not be a long one. I wonder if when he looked at me when I was 15 and thought, I only have a few years left to tell her everything I have to share. I will never know if he had that type of an inking or not, but what I do know is that the things he taught me in those moments will be with me forever.
Whenever he would drop me off somewhere it was always the same. A hug, a kiss, a three words..."Make me proud." That phrase is often in my mind as I walk through my day to day life or as I make major decisions, I think... "am I making Him proud?" Some times I know with certainty that he would applaud my choices, and other times I'm not sure what his stance would be. Those are the moments when I wish he was still here most.
I'll end this post with my last, and most cherished memory of my daddy. The day he went into the hospital I went into his room when I knew no one would be there. The moment I walked in he started telling me to leave because he didn't want me to see him like that. I turned to leave. As I was almost out the door I hear him say, "Becca, pray for me." I told him that I would and I continued to leave. He stopped me again and said "Becca, pray for me," Again, I told him that I was. Then he said "Becca, come over here and pray for me." I walked back over to his bedside , held his hand, and asked Jesus to heal him. I asked God to comfort him. I prayed for strength, for hope, and for faith. Then through tears, I kissed his cheek. I told him I loved him. Then I left. That was the last time I ever spoke to my daddy. I feel like that was a very fitting way for us to say goodbye. I think we both knew the end, but neither of us wanted to say anything.
I am so thankful to God for the earthly father that I was given. I have definitely been blessed. Although my dad was not here for long, he had more impact on my life than anyone I can think of.
So, heres to dad...
Happy Birthday Daddy. Have fun celebrating with Jesus! I can't wait to see you again and celebrate together! That will be a joyous day.
This blog is beautiful :)!
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