Sunday, June 15, 2014

Daddy


It just dawned on me how much I miss my Daddy.  We are over a thousand miles apart, but there's hardly a day that goes by that I don't think about him.  I remember being so proud of my daddy- everything that he did or said, I wanted to know.  He was generally a quiet man, so anything he had to say must be important!  I loved his parents, where he was born, the way he plays guitar, I even loved the fact that he was John Jr. 

When I was trying very hard to get my Visa and other papers in order to go to India years ago, he was the one to gently remind me not to be anxious but to let God work everything out.  When I was pushing myself harder and harder to graduate home school by age 16, he was the one to calm me down and tell me that it would be okay if I didn't end up graduating until six months to a year later.  

I'll never forget the time when we were sitting around the dinner table and he looked at me and said, "Some day, you will probably not agree with me on everything.  But that's okay.  That's life.  It's just going to happen that way."  I shook my head.  What?  No way!  Daddy knew everything, he was wise, he was just wonderful.  Why in the world would I disagree with him on anything?  That was when I was a naive 17.  And now, years later, I know my Daddy was wise- because, you know what?  We do disagree on some things.  And it is just how it happened. But we agree on other things, don't worry. :-)


I was telling Stephen the other day how I remembered when we were little, we would tell Daddy about a scratch or an owie and he'd pull out his pocket knife (in fun, of course, but he was so good at not smiling or laughing during the ordeal that we really thought he was serious!) and ask to see the owie.  "Here, let me cut it off so it won't hurt any more, ok?" he'd say.  "No," we'd reply, pulling our hand back.  "It's okay now!" 
Or the times when we girls would stay up to the oddest hours in our beds chatting away about anything and everything in the darkness of our bedroom.  Suddenly, we'd hear Daddy's strong voice: "Girls, it's time for bed.  Good night!"
Other times he was playing his beloved guitar accompanied by his soothing voice or Mother's harmonies.  There was something so calming, so sweet about it.


The more I grow older and better learn the ropes of having my own family, the more I see how much my parents did for me and my siblings.  And although there may be things that I wish I could change, I know that God gave me who and what I needed- what He thought was best for me.  We may never agree on some things or our views have changed, but I can rest assured of the fact that my parents loved me (and still do!) to the best of their ability. 
Daddy, I miss you so much.  I can't wait to spend more time with you this Summer, Lord willing!