Pardon the rambling:::::::
It has been 11 years today that my father died. It amazes me that I still think about it as much as I do even as the years pass. I wonder if there will ever come a time when October 10th is just another day for me without even a thought of my dad.
My father wasn’t there as much as I would have liked growing up, but I still miss him. I miss the thought of him being involved in my life. I miss the thought of him having fun & getting to know my girls. Dad died from a year long battle with cancer at age 40. He only lived 8 years longer than what my age is now. So young, yet so wise about life. Some words that come to mind when I think of him: sarcastic, witty, reserved, quiet, servant, simple. Dad made many mistakes, but I can say he truly tried to live out his Christian faith as he believed it. It came out legalistic & full of rules to me as a teenager, but looking back, I know he was just trying to “flesh out” what he believed. He was a mechanic who enjoyed restoring old vehicles in his spare time. Dad always served behind the scenes at church doing sound for the music. I think he felt uncomfortable in big groups of people so he served. He never had new cars or the nicest home, but it was paid for. I think he was content with the basics & necessities of life. I remember him stopping & picking magnolia blooms off of trees & taking them home to enjoy. When he was sick & could not walk anymore, he would look out the window & enjoy his rose bushes & birds playing in their little homes. Deep down I know he loved me but had a hard time expressing it. We had such a hard time connecting & understanding each other. When I was young he moved to Texas & lived there for about 14 years I think. I remember visiting during the summers as a teen. Just so confused & rebellious. I hated the fact that he wasn’t more involved in my life, yet resisted his even small attempts by lashing out. I know I had his temper & it came out so much during those visits. There are things about me that I know are “classic Jimmy”. My temper, depression, but most of all my super sarcastic sense of humor. He was a man of few words, but when he did speak, it could catch you off guard. Sometimes he could just be so funny & witty.
During his time of sickness we got to know each other so much more. There was so much suffering during that year of him fighting for his life, but also so much bonding between us. After being angry & confused for so many years of my childhood, we were able to reach an understanding. It started the day he told me he had cancer. I remember coming home from college Thanksgiving Day in 1995. I arrived at the hospital wondering what in the world was happening. He asked me to sit in his lap which was so awkward for our relationship, but i did it anyway. I looked up & he was crying. I had never remembered seeing him cry, ever. He told me he had stage 4 cancer & probably a matter of months to live. My grandparents & aunts & uncles came to the hospital & we had Thanksgiving lunch in the cafeteria. That day will be burned in my memory forever. Dad fought & fought that next year. Chemo & sickness, herbs & shark cartilage, immunotherapy, tumors, pain, vision loss, mobility loss………..It was hard, but I am glad we had that time together. I drove him to the hospital 3 days out of the week for chemo & we talked. We watched Walker Texas Ranger, Home Improvement & Touched by an Angel while laying on opposite ends of his couch. We ate Meals on Wheels together in his trailer. I read his favorite passages of Scripture to him. I may not have many childhood memories, but I do have these moments that I will hold dear. I have so much respect & love for the way my dad fought his cancer & his attitude that year. He still clung to his faith in Christ. Sometimes he would just stare out the window looking up at the sky. I would ask him what he was looking for. He responded with, “just waiting for Christ to return for me.”
I wish he was here.
