I Remember When...

Ever since the passing of my dad, I have thought a lot about our relationship. I am sure that every person feels that their relationship with their loved one is special and unique -- and that is exactly how I feel. I have always been a daddy's girl. Growing up, he has been my rock -- solid and strong. But, also, a soft place to fall. He has been the quiet in the storm. I miss him terribly. I could recall story after story of how he has been there for me... And, time after time, I have wanted to call him up and just tell him about my day... Just to have that sickening sensation in the pit of my stomach return. That is no longer the reality. Somehow when I call someone else, they just don't seem to measure up.

Long nights in college, when I was up until all hours of the night studying. I called my dad. Discussions about God. I called my dad. Arguments with Travis (sorry Trav). I called my dad. Work issues. Dad. Building my house. Dad. Questions about money. Dad. Dad, dad, dad. And, that's just this week...

I don't mean to sound like a downer. I just miss him so much. But, I am not blind. Not spiritually. Not physically. Not emotionally. I know all the blessings that have been bestowed on myself and my family. Those blessings are not diminished by this one horrible tragedy. Some of those blessings have actually become clearer because of this. And sure, for us it is a tragedy -- for my dad -- freedom, love, grace.

This story is one of those blessings that have just become clearer. Sometimes, I just smile when I think of it. Sometimes, I smile through tears. But, I always smile. When I was in 3rd or 4th grade, I decided that I wanted to ride my bicycle to school. At this time, we lived in a neighborhood in Marietta -- just 2 blocks from my elementary school. I really hold this time in my life dear... Just two blocks from school and two blocks from my best friend. It was very unlike my parents to let me do something like this -- ride two blocks, completely unattended by an adult in elementary school. But, surprisingly, they agreed to let it happen. I remember there was this big hill that stood between me and East Side Elementary. The first few days of riding my bike, I could not even make it half-way up the hill. No matter how much speed I gained. But, day after day, I would make it a little further, until finally one day, I rode all the way up... Ahh, it was glorious success. Anyway, this continued all year, riding to school in the morning, riding home in the afternoon. Sometimes, with a pit-stop at my best friend's house. Whenever I would end up at Toni's house (best friend since I was five), I was supposed to call my parent's right away. However, being a child, sometimes I would forget. Ooooh, my parents would be so mad! Telling me how worried they were. They have always been a "little" overprotective (note: sarcasm). This was the norm for a while. Time rocked on. Later on in my life, I would recall this story and how I learned to conquer that hill. A true lesson for real life -- just keep at it and you can accomplish anything. But, I would find later, there was another lesson there...

I can't even remember when it was... But, I was definitely an adult when I found out. All those days that I rode to school -- thinking I was such a big girl, conquering that hill -- my dad was there. I had no clue! He followed me to school every day, just to make sure I arrived OK. He never told me this as a child, maybe he figured it would make me feel that he didn't trust me. But, as an adult, I realized the depth of love that it displayed. I couldn't believe he had been there all that time, watching me struggle with that hill. He said he had just wanted to come rescue me and push me up that hill himself. But, he knew it was better for me accomplish that on my own. That's my father, wonderful beyond words, loving beyond measure.

And, besides this lesson in love from my dad... I have since realized the parallel between a father's love for their child and the Father's love for His children. He is always there watching; ready to protect and rescue. But, allowing us the room to grow into who we are...