Usually when I get the urge to blog, thoughts rumble around in my head and when I sit down to type, it just kind of all flows out. I woke up this morning, on the morning we lay my Daddy to rest, thinking about a blog to pay tribute to the greatest man I ever knew. The problem is, I don’t even know where to start.
Do I start with how he lived his life with honesty and decency, and exemplified the meaning of good character?
Or how he put his family above all else – always.
Or how he was as dependable as the sunrise. He worked 37 years and nobody can remember him ever taking a sick day.
Do I start with the fact that somewhere close to 200 people showed up at my parents house within a couple of hours after he died? How does that even happen? What kind of impact does a person have to make on a community for TWO HUNDRED people to drop what they’re doing and rush over to comfort the family, pitch in on the farm, and cook more food than 10 families could ever eat?
Or how about all the men who came through the visitation line and told me how my daddy had worked with them at Monsanto and taught them everything they know, in the most patient and respectful way imaginable.
Or all the farmers who told me how many times he just showed up and started working with them because he knew they needed the help.
There were 5 or 6 different people who said to me, “Your daddy was my very best friend”… That’s the kind of man he was. He made everyone feel so important that they all claimed that best friend status.
And his grandchildren. He thought they hung the moon. And they knew he did.
I find great comfort in the fact that he died like he lived – working hard and never complaining. I never had to see him get old or get sick. I thank God for that.
I think Aubree, who is only 4 years old, has the best perspective on it. Yesterday I was trying to explain and answer questions to Yuri and Gigi when Aubree piped up, “Pappa is soooo lucky. He gets to live with Jesus and the angels.”
Yes, baby, he is lucky. And so were we.