Wednesday, January 14, 2009

A Decade Ago

Today marks a somber anniversary for me. Ten years ago on this day, January 14th, my dad passed away. I have so many emotions that it's hard for me to express them. First of all, I cannot believe an entire decade has passed. It's strange to think about how different my life was back then. It's even stranger to try and imagine how different my life would be today if he were still here. He'd be 68 years old and I probably wouldn't be living in San Antonio; the only reason I moved back home was because he was sick. I'm so thankful that I did.

Here are a few photos of my dad:

I was definitely a "daddy's girl" when I was little.

My parents about 5 years before he died.
My mom thought my dad was the best dancer.
It's one of the things she misses most about him.
This was my family at my college graduation -- less than two years before he died. My dad was just starting to show symptoms, but had not yet been diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease).
It's bizarre that most of the people in my life today never knew him. So I thought I'd share a few facts about my dad. First of all, he was hilarious and goofy. I definitely inherited my sense of humor from my dad. (I also inherited his cleft chin.) He was equally self-deprecating and self-admiring -- my family loved to mimic the faces he made when he was combing his hair in the mirror. He was very impulsive -- one time he got into a car crash and when the cops showed up to take the report, he had already walked across the street to a car dealership to look for a new car. He was strong and athletic -- he played football at Texas Tech and then with the Philadelphia Eagles. But he wasn't just a jock; he was also very hard working and ambitious. He had a Master's Degree and had completed all but a few hours on his Doctorate Degree. My dad had several careers in his lifetime. He started out playing professional football, and then he went into the management side. He owned a couple of minor-league football teams in San Antonio and then was GM of the USFL team here. He was also a college counselor, a teacher, and a special education coach for middle school and high school kids. And in his final business pursuit, he started his own nutritional supplement company. These are all things my dad would have wanted me to mention about himself. :)
Unfortunately, we were both very stubborn and didn't always get along. I have lots of regrets about our relationship, which I think makes the ache deeper and more complex. But I value the time I had with him and am especially grateful that I moved home to help care for him in the final months of his life. I admire him and love him and still miss him. I am the person I am today because of AND in spite of my father.

12 comments:

Barlow Fam said...

What a tender post. I don't remember a ton about your Dad but I do remember him being funny. I also remember thinking he was so handsome. What a blessing this world had to have him in it.

Buxton Family said...

I'm not sure what to say except that we love you. I know it has been hard, but you are an amazing person and an inspiration to me.

Anderson Zoo Keepers said...

It is hard to believe that was 10 years ago, it seems like such a lifetime has passed. I have a very foggy memory about a lot of things from years ago, but the events surrounding your dad's death are still very fresh and vivid to me. I'm sure there are a lot of reasons for that but the conversations in the car on the way to Texas are, I'm sure, a big part of it. One of the things I remember most is us both coming to the realization that despite our frustrations with one of our parents, it was that parent who brought the Gospel into our lives.
Your dad was great and hilarious - and I totally remember him and his new Cadillac.
You know how much I love and care for you and your family. Thank you for reminding me of this anniversary.
You should also know that you made me cry. :-)

Rebecca and Co. said...

Julie, I also thought your dad was so handsome and I remember him teaching our youth Sunday School class with his ostrich-skinned boots. I can only imagine how much you must miss him.

Beautiful post.

Becky

The Dragonfly said...

What a beautiful tribute to your dad, Julie. I can tell he was a remarkable man. I think the biggest tribute though, is the fact that you are a remarkable woman today. We love you!

Tobi said...

I loved this post about your Dad. How sweet that you still honor and remember him. I'm sure your Dad is very proud of you and all that you have accomplished. Your a great woman and I'm glad to know you!

Nicole said...

I am sure that your dad is keeping an eye on you - helping to guide you as you make your way through life. While our time here is short, you certainly make the most of life. And I know that your dad is so proud of the woman you are and the woman you will be.

Hil said...

Very touching post, Julie. I've had two close friends lose their fathers in the last 6 months and I can't help pondering my own father's mortality. Your tribute to your father was beautifully written. Thank you for sharing.

P.S. The difference between a man and a woman has never been as obvious to me as when my hubby and I read this together tonight. While I get all teary-eyed about a father/daughter relationship, he's busy being in awe of your dad's football stats...

Erika said...

Julie, this is simply just sweet. The first thing I thought when I saw the picture of you dad was... it looks like Julie. Dad's are priceless.

Elena said...

I remember your dad, too, Julie. I remember his boots, his sense of humor and his good looks. I also remember him teaching my Sunday School class and thinking how big he was. When he got sick I remember thinking that it wasn't possible for someone as big and strong to be put in that situation. What a great tribute.

Morgan said...

What a beautiful post. I really enjoyed reading this! Thanks so much for sharing!

behka said...

Beautiful post, I feel like I got to know him a bit. I love that you are who you are today 'because of and in spite of' him. Don't those we love leave that kind of impression on us? I remember your heartache when he was getting sick. I am truly sorry for your loss, even a decade later. I understand death, but I am not a super huge fan of it!