One year ago today my father died.
Amazing how fast a year can fly by.
Unbelievable how much it still hurts.
Most of my life my dad was a tyrant.
We feared him.
He was mean and abusive, but your daddy is your daddy and I loved him.
I still love him.
As much as I feared him, I was so very proud of him.
My dad was a Mexican immigrant who didn't speak English when he first came to the U.S.
He graduated from college with two law degrees and a Masters in business.
He was an Officer in the U.S. Army Special Forces.
When he retired he was personnel director for U.S. Southern Command Military Intelligence.
He was 6ft 2 inches over 200 lbs and built like an ox.
I always thought he was just this big, strong super soldier.
He was really a brilliant man.
Knew several languages and I could ask him about just about anything and he would know the answer.
When he died he was 130lbs and had such horrible rheumatoid arthritis that he could barley move without pain.
I would pick him up in my arms and move him around his bed and hospital room and he would look at me in marvel and comment how strong "I" was.
In his last days his mind started wandering, but still could grasp some complicated concepts.
He was in CHF and his heart began going out.
He was maxed out on Dobutamine and Dopamine and yet they could not keep his blood pressure above 90 systolic.
I was his medical power of attorney and was called when they said he didn't have much longer and we'd have to make the decision to take him off "life support".
My mother (from whom he was separated) and my younger brother and I flew out to him in Vegas to talk to him about the decision.
He agreed that he didn't want his remaining days to be in the ICU being tube fed and hooked to IV's.
The thing that was haunting us was his total rejection of Jesus his whole life.
Sure he was suffering, but ending his temporary suffering now and sending him to eternal torment...I shudder at the thought.
OK, I ramble.
I think I commented upon this a year ago.
To make a long story short, he made some what of a death bed commitment.
I'd held onto the belief that he'd give his life to the Lord some day and it came to fruition.
God is faithful.
All that to say, I didn't realize it'd be this hard.
I think of him often and miss him most days.
As it came closer to being one year of his death I began thinking of him more and more.
Yesterday and today I've been really weepy.
Of course, tonight I'm working through 'til morning.
More time to think about it.
Couldn't take my regular start the week nap this afternoon.
My mind was racing too much.
OK, no one is really interested in my whining.
Sorry. but I had to comment on it.
Dang I miss my daddy.