It’s a special day. I’m thinking about my daddy today on his birthday. It’s been almost eight years since he passed away, and I will always miss him.
He was known for being the quiet, teddy-bear type in the room, usually videotaping family Christmases or other special events or just sitting back and watching everyone.
Almost always, you could catch him whistling, humming, harumph-ing, or quietly laughing at whatever antics he was observing.
At the dinner table, he was notorious for starting what seemed to be a real story, only to deliver an unexpected punchline that had us slapping our hands over our mouths so as not to expel the contents or banging the table while we wheezed and gasped for air.
When I think of Papa (the name the grands affectionately called him), I think of faithfulness. He was always beside my mom, always at church for service, always present at family events, and always consistent in his love and devotion to his family, even when he was dying of cancer for the second time.
I’m so thankful for my dad and his example to me. I believe that he set me up for a beautiful marriage to my best friend. I pray that I’m able to pass along that heritage to my own children.
