PART 1 OF 2The last few years have been a mixed bag of emotions for my family. Seven years ago, dad was diagnosed with a life altering disease: not just for him, but for all of us. But, regardless of the hurt and pain of all the change, what this disease did NOT do was steal my dad's legacy. It did NOT steal my dad's character. It did NOT change where our anchor holds. My dad WAS NOT the disease.I remember who my dad was. My dad was a wonderful father. I remember when I was 4 or 5, dad worked nights at the hospital. I would fall asleep in mom's bed. When he got home, he would pick me up and take me to my room so gently, he never even woke me. I remember dad taking Leslie and I fishing one night at the lake. It was pretty fun until that water moccasin slithered up the sand bar toward our lantern! If you didn't know my dad was not fond of snakes, and we inherited that trait! That was the first time and the last time we fished at night. When I was a young teenager, dad took me out to dinner one night; just him and me. He entertained me with stories of his wilder and crazier college days. From that, I could see a different perspective of him; where he had been at one time to where God had brought him to.I remember who my dad was. My dad was an excellent husband. He treated my mom like she was no less than a queen. I remember him hugging her, kissing her and telling her "I love you" everyday. Every Mother's Day dad would buy all of the women in the family corsages. Always carnations, because they were mom's favorite. If it were up to him, he would've bought her flowers and fine jewelry every birthday, anniversary, Valentines and Christmas. He would've bought her a new car every year. Luckily for his pocketbook, my mom wouldn't let him! I will always remember the last words that I heard dad speak clearly was "I love you" to my mother.I remember who my dad was. My dad was a people person. We couldn't go to a single public place in Tulsa without him bumping into someone that he knew. Working in the pharmacy, he would recognize the car pulling up outside and say, "So and so prescriptions are ready, pull them out." Not only did he know nearly every customer by first and last name, but he would ask about their relative that was having heart trouble the last time they came in. He would know their kids names and what college they were attending. He could make pleasant conversation with anyone and make them feel welcome and appreciated. "Thank you" "You're welcome" "Maam" and "Sir" was part of his regular vocabulary.I remember who my dad was. My dad was a funny guy. I'm sure my slightly sarcastic sense of humor has a lot to do with his influence! And the fact I could probably quote Die Hard and Spaceballs verbatim. When the church was in full building project mode, my dad bought a new tool every week. He came home with one of his new toys, and I asked him what it was. "It's a stud finder." He said. What does it do? I asked. He picked it up, placed it on his chest and said grinning ear to ear, "Hey, it works!"I remember who my dad was. He could be a little high strung. Type A. This is definitely why he stressed out Leslie and I when he was teaching us to drive a stick shift! He had high expectations of himself. He never told me this, but I always suspected that his relentless work ethic had something to do with losing his father at a young age; therefore feeling like he had to take care of everything and everyone around him. I think he said to mom at least once every night "Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?" He was always in forward motion with a project.
