Happy Early Birthday Dad...I Miss You

Tonight's post is a bit different...last June, my Dad unexpectedly, but sort of expectedly, passed away. His birthday would have been next Wednesday, April 30th, and so as that's coming up, it's been on my heart to write...we called him "Bio" Dad to differentiate from our step-Dad, who is my Daddy...he was there from the age of 7 on when he and Mom met and was there when my bio-Dad wasn't. There were a lot of hard years with Dad, but I'm thankful we were able to restore our relationship as an adult. The first time I really remember him supporting me was before our wedding...I quit nursing school so that I could work 25 hours to get health insurance so Jord and I could get married, and although I had been praying and thinking about it for over a year, I hadn't talked to family about it, so everyone was shocked....after all, I had a full ride scholarship and had always loved school. Dad took me out to Denny's for breakfast and asked why I was quitting. When I explained that Jord and I really wanted to get married, but we needed health insurance and I didn't have the energy to work 25 hours a week and go to nursing school full time, plus, God was showing me that staying home with a family was the path He was calling me to, he said as long as the decision was mine, he would support me. That was really the start of the good years for me and Dad.....as I was praying this afternoon, I just felt burdened to write so I did it in the form of a letter to him. It wasn't all good, and the last couple of years of his life were incredibly difficult for all of us as his alcoholism quite literally consumed him. It's devastating and it's not something that I share lightly...everyone processes grief and things differently and I pray that sharing the hard part of my story, along with the sweet and precious memories I will forever treasure of me and my Dad, along with some of my favorite pictures of me and him, will maybe help someone that needs a reason to turn from alcoholism...or those that are loving someone that is struggling. Ultimately, the only hope is Jesus--we can't change anyone else, but we can pray to the One who transforms hearts and lives and I pray that my Dad found the light in the midst of the darkness of his last days. I am thankful I do not know hearts, but I can wholeheartedly trust the One who does, and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that HE is trustworthy and where my hope lies! Without further ado...a letter to my Dad...............Dad.....Your birthday would be next Wednesday, the 30th…I’ve been reflecting a lot about your death and the grief…I miss you. I know the last couple of years were really hard for you and it makes me really sad to know you died alone….I wish I could have been there for you, but I have to trust that wasn’t God’s plan........................The things I miss….your laugh, your stories, “hey kiddo, this is your Dad…” looking at old pictures together and talking horses. I will never ever forget an afternoon in 2017…you came over and we were watching “Another Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting” where country artists talked about life and then sang hymns. You got it for me as a gift for either my birthday or Christmas, I can’t remember which. I forget who it was, but they were sharing their story of struggling with alcohol and I’ll never forget the tears rolling down your face…and then they sang “Were you there, when they crucified my Lord?” And we two-stepped to it in my living room. These moments give me so much hope Daddy. I’ll also never forget seeing your answer to a Facebook question a couple years ago…it was something like, “What would you tell your younger self?” And you responded with, “Don’t start drinking.” I know it was such a hard battle for you Daddy…one that you eventually lost, but that’s where God comes in—before time began He numbered your days and I have to rest in the fact of Genesis 18:25 “Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?”...........................The questions still come that I wrestle with….what about this? Could I have said this? If only….but as a wise friend often reminds me, “If onlys are Satan’s playground.” We can’t change the past, all we can do is “press on towards the prize” as Paul exhorts us to in Philippians 3. Jesus knows. Jesus wept. Jesus cares…He’s King of Kings and Lord of Lords and He is trustworthy. My pain and my questions…my sobs and my hurt…hearing Jus and Jen sob their pain and their hurt…wishing I could fix it as big sister…but I can’t…all I can do is point them to the One who I cling to in my own hurt and grief….Jesus, my precious Savior…the One who suffered God’s wrath on the cross for my sins and theirs…then three days later rose victorious over the grave—conquering death once and for all…there is pain and suffering and sorrow and loss and grief now, but there IS a Day coming when Jesus will come back as the Lion of the tribe of Judah and those hid in Him will be forever free from not just the penalty of our sin but the very presence! No more tears! No more pain! No more sorrow! O Daddy, I pray you trusted Christ! That you are with Him for all eternity and I will meet you on that golden shore when I get to shed this sin cursed pain wracked body once and for all—and when I breathe my last moment here, I will take my first full breath in the presence of my mighty Savior and O what a Glorious moment that will be! That is my hope and where my treasure lies…in the meantime I miss you..........................I feel the sting of death. The curse of sin. The pain of alcoholism and how it ravages a person and their family. I hear your voice calling me, so proud, “I haven’t had a drink for a week!” We’d talk and then I wouldn’t hear from you for awhile…but I knew…the temptation was too strong, the sin too enticing, the bottle too available for the weak flesh. I prayed everyday for you Daddy as I texted you verses. You would respond, “Amen”. Every now and then you’d ask a question or say you didn’t agree and we’d text a little more. How I’d pray God would sink those verses deep in your heart and help you. I came to visit and prayed you’d be sober so I could talk to you when I gave you a card and a booklet that I hoped would help…but you weren’t. But I still got to see you and hug you and give you the card and the book. It broke my heart to see you like that at 10 in the morning…reading one of your books by yourself. The booklet was called, “Help! I Want to Change” because I knew deep down you wanted to change….I pray you read it, but I’ll never know this side of heaven…and that’s ok.................Then the hard part…the last time I saw you alive on this earth…you drove out to see me at Mom’s….I excitedly gave you a great big hug and I smelled it….you were drunk. My heart sank. You had wanted to drive me to see your new place, but I had just gotten in and didn’t have the energy so we talked about doing it another time. We went inside and you gave me a present—a super soft blanket that is a letter: “To my daughter: Whenever you feel overwhelmed, remember whose daughter you are and straighten your crown. Always remember you are braver than you think, stronger than you seem, and loved more than you know. I will always be there to love you and you will always be my baby girl. Wrap yourself in this blanket and consider it a hug. Love, Dad”. I will always treasure it as the last thing you gave me on this earth. I also just remembered from the good years before we moved, when I was hospitalized or having surgery, you’d tell me “Hang tough kiddo.” Just like you told me to tell everyone “I’m tough” when I fell off Goldy when I was little and you said I came home and said, “I’m tough, I’m tough! And Then started crying, “Goldy bucked me off!” I can hear you telling that story and laughing right now…oh I miss you Dad. I’m so thankful for the good memories…I remember writing to you when I was in psychosis in 2013 telling you I know you were in there underneath the alcohol and that I needed you. And for a few years, God answered that unspoken prayer…you were there and we made some wonderful memories, which I treasure in the midst of the hard and painful ones.................I didn’t know what to do because I knew I couldn’t let you leave Mom’s property driving drunk—I would never forgive myself if you hit someone. So there were texts and phone calls trying to figure out what to do…God answered my prayers and Uncle Mike and Aunt Netta and Mom came in just as you were about to walk out on me when I asked for your keys after you admitted you’d been drinking. Uncle Mike drove me and you back to your trailer and I tried to help you get out and you kinda pushed me out of the way saying you didn’t need help and brushed me off. I watched you stumble into the trailer and that is the last time I ever saw you alive. Somehow I knew too. I told Jus and Jen I felt like it was going to be the last time because you didn’t look good and you had been hospitalized for pancreatitis. A day or two later, I could have ridden with Jenny to the mailboxes for her to give you something, but I didn’t. Oh I wish I had—so I could hug you one more time. But you weren’t in a good place and I made the best decision I thought at the time. Live and learn..............We still had some ok phone conversations—you couldn’t really hear me on the phone so you’d call and tell me what was going on but I could tell you couldn’t really understand what I was telling you back. But I still texted you verses everyday. And like clockwork, I’d get your reply, “Amen.” A couple weeks before you died, I texted verses that talked about fearing God and you texted that you didn’t think we had to fear God. I explained how we do need to fear God—Proverbs says it is the beginning of wisdom to fear the Lord and there are SO many places that talk about it. I talked about it being a reverential awe and not just a fear of punishment like some think of fear and you disagreed. I found a few verses and asked what you thought of them and you didn’t respond. The next day you said, “Amen.” Until Jenny called in tears….”Dad’s gone!” Then I realized you hadn’t texted “Amen” in a couple of days…and we knew why. Oh the grief that washed over me….I got a ticket and was out in Tucson in two days. It was a hard trip. My lungs had declined from the Swine Flu earlier that year and I could feel it in the airport, getting short of breath walking with my bags. All the emotions…my flight out was delayed so I was going to miss my connection and I started panicking inside and turned around and saw someone at a counter behind me and tearfully told her what was going on and she got me on another flight in Dallas so I didn’t miss my connection. She was only there for a couple of minutes—God answers prayers and protects so much! I got to share Christ with a young girl who had just joined the military sitting waiting for my new connection that I wouldn’t have gotten to talk to if I hadn’t changed my flight. A grace note from above.................Mom and the kiddos picked me up from the airport and we got home just before Jenny arrived with a precious box…..one full of envelopes filled with organized photos and letters and all sorts of things. It was good and hard to see all the memories and learn new things and see letters from when I was little that you kept and one of my elementary report cards. The next day we went to the mortuary and that was hard. I broke down. But thankfully you had thought ahead and had paid for cremation—we had some first responder humor to help get us through. We went back and forth on services and settled on doing a small family thing to spread some of your ashes before I had to go home and then you got one last bull ride which was amazing….and God reminded everyone of His great promise with the most beautiful rainbow—the pictures and video of it were gorgeous!......Before that, at our private family memorial, I read Psalm 23—anytime I would text those verses, you would always tell me those were your favorite. Then I played a song I was listening to over and over…Be Still My Soul…and then we spread your ashes around the mesquite tree with Bouie, Crash, Superman, and Chloe…it was windy and so you got on our sunglasses and in our eyes lol. And then it was back home for me and sorting through the shock and the grief from far away….I miss your texts and your calls. I’m thankful I still have two voicemails from you from a couple years ago…one a birthday call that I’m so glad I missed now because I can listen to it…and I do and it’s a treasure. I love you Daddy and I’ll hang tough until God calls me home...Happy birthday, Love Shel