He was a father in every sense of the word. He showed me what unconditional love was and he expected nothing in return. When his sons had broken hearts, so did he. When we were full of joy, so was he. There was no such thing as a small accomplishment for us, everything was significant and noteworthy and he would not hesitate to brag on us. He would constantly tell us how proud he was of us, for what seemed like the things that ordinary people do – being a father, being a good husband, being a provider.
Even when we messed up, there was never judging or “I told you so’s.” He just wanted to help us figure out how to fix it. Sometimes I know my dad didn’t approve of some the decisions I would make but even if he disagreed with them, he would keep it to himself and was always an encourager first.
He knew how to strike that balance of being a father and a buddy to his sons. He was always up for the “guy” movie or just hanging out and watching some stupid TV – Seinfeld, Friends, Everybody Loves Raymond- and somehow, it always seemed funnier when I was watching it with my dad.
Not long after I graduated from college, I had this wild idea that I wanted to move to Alabama and get my master’s degree in sports management. Not once did dad question my decision because I think he just knew that it was something I needed to do. I only ended up living in Alabama for about 6 months and the best part of living out there was the road trip out there with my dad. To this day, that remains one of my fondest memories of my dad – our road trip together from Phoenix to Alabama. 24+ hours in a car with my dad, it didn't get much better than that for me.
It wasn’t until I was older that I truly appreciated how much of a counselor my dad was and how God used him in so many ways to touch the lives of others. Things in his life that could be considered negatives, he was able to use those to witness to others about the love and compassion of Christ.
There was a time where it seemed like the phone would never stop ringing as there were many people who sought his counsel and guidance. He was the ultimate listener and while he never spoke much to my brother or me about his past, he wouldn’t hesitate to share it with others who needed to hear how God could truly change a person’s heart.
Toward the end, I know that was ultimately part of what he struggled with ... the helper didn't want to be helped.
He also recognized how blessed he truly was and that the skills he had learned, were truly a gift from God and he wanted to use them to help others. Whether it was the medical missions to Mexico and South America or the late night cries for help from random people that needed to be answered, he responded without question. While he may have taken the gifts for granted at times, he could also discern what the Holy Spirit was calling him to do like no one I had ever seen before.
He showed me that you could be a flawed and imperfect person and God would always love you and never turn His back on you
He taught me to use history as a guide for trusting in the Lord during challenging times.
There was a time that I always talked to my dad once or twice a week. Best time was always when I was on my way home from work during my long commutes. More often than not, I’d finish that conversation in a much better place than I was before it started. Unfortunately over these past couple of years, those calls had become less frequent. Now I know that I will be able to talk to him every day. Having two fathers up there is definitely not a bad thing.
