Remembering.

Today is a day of remembering for me. My dad passed away on this day in 1993. That seems like a lifetime ago. So much has happened over the last 16 years that it makes my heart hurt because he missed it. His laughter and smile wasn't here.

He missed my engagement, my college graduation, my wedding, the birth of his 3 grandbabies. The most important times in my life. Oh, how I wish he could see my babies. He would be so over the top CRAZY in love with them.

The reality is that he passed away during my most turbulent days...well not THE MOST turbulent days, but close. If only he could see me now. I want him to know that all of his hard work and prayers for me turned out for the best. I can just imagine what our reunion will be like someday. Joy!

But for now, I am trying to teach my kids about him. We talk about Grandpa Mike and what he was like. We talk about my favorite memories and we eat the same barbecue chips that were his very favorite. Most importantly, I tell them how proud he would be of them and that he lives in Heaven so they will see him and know him one day.

I get to see his love shine through my brother. I am so honored that he comes and plays with my kids often. When he is here, I feel my dad with him. I see how daddy would have played with them and I hear how he would have teased them and laughed with them.

I am blessed to see the relationship my kids have with their other grandpa's. Thankfully, my kids haven't felt anything missing in their hearts. They have the priviledge of being surrounded by such a loving extended family and lots of awesome men. It's my heart that has the hole...my heart has never been the same.

Not long ago, I was killing time on my computer (shocking!) and found this essay that I wrote a week after my dad's death for my entrance application to TCU. I never dreamed it would be the reason that I was accepted...it certainly wasn't for my stellar grades or ACT scores. They wrote to tell me that they choose my application because of this essay. I guess its not the norm of what most college kids include in their application.

Precious Gifts

There it sits innocently on my bed. It is a teddy bear with its cub wrapped tightly in its arms. I have had that bear for many years and I never knew what it really stood for.

I was in the third grade when the sells representatives came to school to introduce us to the products which we were to sell for the next week. The products were tacky little knick-knacks that my classmates and I were to sell around the community. In return for selling these products, we received little prizes such as pencils, stuffed animals, plastic jewelry, hair combs, balls, and other little toys.

My reward was going to be a cute little teddy bear with a pink ribbon around its neck. I had to sell only fifteen things before the bear was mine. Selling from door to door would have been an easy task if my family lived in the heart of town, but we lived at least twenty miles out of B-Town on a large farm. I knew it would be hard for me, but I wanted to prove that I could do it anyway.

I was not having any luck with the neighboring farms and I was getting discouraged. I asked my dad to take the catalog and order form to work with him for a couple of days to see if he would have better luck. He smiled and said that he would do the best he could. However, when the week was up, he brought the form back to me having only sold two candlesticks. I was heart-broken because I knew I would not get that cute little teddy bear with the pink ribbon. My dad told me that he had been terribly busy, and just did not have a chance to show anyone the catalog. I knew he felt bad, but I was too childish to understand that it was not his responsibility.

Having to go to school the next day with only two products sold was very humiliating. All of my friends had their forms filled completely and were so proud because they would get the best toys. I tried to pretend that I didn't care, but deep down I was hurt because I wanted to prove to everyone that I could do it, too.
At home that night, my dad came into my room with a huge wrapped box with a pretty ribbon on it. I suddenly felt so guilty for being mad at him because inside the box was a beautiful bear with its little cub wrapped tightly in its arms. My dad gave me a precious gift, one that I never really appreciated until twelve years later.

Now, one week after the death of the father that I have loved for twenty years, I realize that by giving me that bear he was telling me that his undying love and protective arms will always be wrapped around his little cub. That is a gift that I will hold in my heart forever.


I miss you, daddy. Every single day.