Losing Dad

My dad . . .very capable, confident, independent, handy and smart. His dry and quick sense of humor was usually unexpected, but always appreciated. His nickname for me was his little Son (pronounced Sawn), and I never tired of hearing him say it. He endearingly called all eight of his kids "kitty cats" or "little toads". We in turn called him our "Daddy Toad".

Dad rarely, if ever, missed a game, performance, race, piano recital or parade when any of his kids were involved. If your car didn't start, your plumbing didn't work, you were in a fender bender, stuck in bad weather, or just simply needed help, he was there with his tools and wallet in hand. He taught us all how to snow ski, fix a car, cut wood, drive a car, water ski and jet ski. He let us help him pour concrete, paint, hang wallpaper, build a bookshelf, solder a circuit board or fix anything electronic. Every year he took his family on a vacation in a tent, camper, travel trailer or housboat. We explored many national parks, beaches, lakes, zoos and amusement parks. He drove many miles singing with us all the way. When dad was around, we knew all was okay.

Dad loved to build models, HAM radio, radio controlled airplanes, snow skiing, water sports, guns, and anything electronic. He was a NASA Engineer, and had an integral part in the space industry. He loved chocolate donuts, meat and potatoes, rice pudding, custard, and anything sweet. 

I never worried about dad, until he suffered a stroke. This humbling experience made me realize that I took a lot for granted about my dad. After a few months in the hospital, dad came home with me to continue his recovery. He worked hard to learn how to walk without a walker, then without a cane. He was determined to be independent again. I loved to watch this man, humbled by his health challenges, get up every morning with a new vigor to live life to it's fullest. I loved waking up to the clinking of his spoon stirring hot chocolate every morning at 6:00 a.m., hearing his "oh hi Son" when I walked in.

He did return to independence, living in a small apartment close to my home. He made many friends and continued his love of life. Until the call I received that dad had blacked out and fell, severely hitting his head causing much damage. He never would recover. I spent many hours by his bedside reading to him, singing his favorite songs, holding his hand, and watching him sleep. The last words I heard him say were "I love you my little Son". He never woke up that next day. I knew that my job of caring for him was complete and that he would be off to a better place, the place he taught me about - Heaven. He would be reunited with my my mom, his sweetheart, who passed away 9 years previously. He was ready to meet his Father in Heaven, and his Savior. He was ready, but I wasn't. I'm still not ready to lose my dad. But, I'm grateful that he was my dad.

I look forward to being reunited with both my mom and dad, and I'm certain he will say "oh, hi Son" when I see him. That will be a glorious day.