So this week I have been broken. My heart has been lost. I have found peace and I have fallen apart. I have told his wreck story so many times it feels like a script now. I have thought about his life with me and my sister and my mom and my memories of him and shared so many of them sometimes it feels like he should still be right here. I have never felt pain or loss or brokenness like this as I know only a child with a parent lost too soon could feel.
My 30th birthday was 4 days after the wreck (May 8). My Dad frequently went on extended mission trips to Papau New Guinea and the Salomon Islands to provide medical services to the poor there (he was a retired physician). He passionately loved serving and working there and had clearly, finally found some peace and fulfillment in this work. My heart breaks he won't be able to continue that ministry. Dad was supposed to leave and go back to his other home in Moorhead, MN to prepare for one of these trips at the beginning of May but I had asked him to stay for my birthday and to see me do the Ironman. He did. This small action of choosing to stay meant more to me than many of you will realize.
So while at many times in my life growing up, Dad could be a source of pain or grief, it also gives me incredible perspective to see the Lord's redeeming hand work. In his last years, my Dad was fully sober for the first time in a long time. He had devoted his life and knew and walked closely with the Lord. He bought a house here in Texas so he could actually BE close instead of just visiting. He was so intentional about being in contact and being in mine and my sister's (and my precious niece/his granddaughter's) lives as he could in addition to the lives of his other two children (my half siblings) who I know are grieving him too. We actually had dinner dates, he came to family events and we didn't have to worry about him, he prayed over us and for the first time in a long time we didn't just see a glimpse of the goofy, smiling, loving, involved, intentional, kind man we all knew he was in his heart but we were blessed with a long unobstructed view for the first time in our lives. Truly only the Lord could provide that restoration in his life and then in his grace and might - provided restoration to his relationships with us.
My God was so patient with my Dad. I fully believe that he did not take my Dad home until he walked right with him and restored relationships he had broken or lost. What a mighty God of restoration we serve. Even though I don't understand his timing or why he had to go in such a tragic and traumatic way, I am so grateful for that grace and provision in his and my life. It is for that reason that I know and feel that peace that passes all understanding and have felt it since I found out early Tuesday morning of his passing despite the heartbreak and pain of knowing he is gone.
So this weekend I will race for him. I know he will be up there cheering me on the whole way. In his goofy cargo shorts, a BBQ or gumbo stained LSU tshirt and terrible white new balance tennis shoes or brown boat shoes that so needed to be replaced and probably playing his guitar and doing some goofy dance, hooting and hollering in the way only he could. While right now this weekend, this race, seems unfathomable at times, I can run this race and finish this course with him by my side the whole way. I think he would have wanted that.
So this one is for you Dad. The silly, kind, loving, restored man who brought me into this world and walked me down the aisle, the man who loved to play his guitar and banjo, hit the ski slopes going way too fast for his age, could smoke the meanest and most delicious brisket and ribs you ever put in your mouth (and that's coming from a Texas girl) while making a pot of gumbo that would rival any New Orleans kitchen. This one's for you. I will remember you always. Every time I look in the mirror I see the dark hair we shared, my big blue eyes you loved, and that big Bass head that makes me have to buy all my hats in an XL just like you (it's for all those brains you always said we shared). I will cherish every sweet moment we spent together in those good times and I will celebrate and glorify the redemption of the bad times as I know you did too. You were so loved - unconditionally and always without ceasing. I know you'll be right there dancing and cheering away and I can't wait until the day we can be silly and tell stories and we can see you again and hug your neck tight. You will be missed everyday. I love you Dad. You ran your race well. You have finished your course. Rest in Peace precious Daddio...until we see you again.
