My Dad

My dad. My hero.

Sunday, after church, my dad began to complain that his belly did not feel right. He was not nauseous, but felt full. The pain was high on his middle. We assumed since the stomach virus is rampant, he was yet another victim. We were wrong.

After leaving lunch early, completely out of character for my foodie father, he and my mom would make the drive to the hospital. Thank goodness they did. My father's appendix was diseased and leaking. He was operated on Sunday night. I was with my girlfriends when my mom called. They just took him. I was there in minutes.

We sat together, it was quiet...empty...late. We chatted and when we weren't chatting, I was thinking. I was thinking of all the good things I had to think about when it comes to my dad. A man of pure goodness, he is the man anyone would want for their daddy.

He and my mother have taught us responsibility not by what they say, but how they live.
He taught me early to tithe to the church.
He taught me that real men honor their wives in every possible way.
And their daughters too.
He taught me that sometimes holding down several jobs at a time is essential to providing for your family.
He holds education in high esteem and at the beautiful age of 69 commits himself to learning every single day.
He is the smartest man I have ever known.
He can make things work.
He still works full time and he is good at it.
He has never let me down, not once. EVER.
He loved God from early on and when his parents didn't take him to church he found people who would.
He is a crier. His heart is bigger than he is.
His children and grandchildren rock his world.
My brother and I are better people because he is our father.
I may be the apple of his eye, but I share that title with one awesome brother and his five amazing grandchildren.
He believes in me even when I don't believe in myself.
I still call him Daddy...

The doctor emerged...Everything went well. Due to certain circumstances, they used a longer procedure but the surgeon hoped it would mean a speedier recovery. As they took him to the OR, he apologized to the staff they called in, he was sorry he had taken them away from their families. That is my dad.

He was groggy next I saw him, aggitated and slightly confused. I held his hand and told him that I love him. His response time was rather slow but he managed to croak "I love you too".

I know Dad. I have never been more sure of anything than I am of the love of my parents.

"Honor your father and your mother, as the Lord, your God commanded you, so that your days may be long and that it may go well with you in the land that the Lord, your God is giving you." Deuteronomy 5:16