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.