So Much Still To Learn

I recently turned 30. I’ve been married for 8 years. I own a home. I have 4 children. I drive a mini van. It would seem I entered adulthood long ago. Yet, I never really felt like I had. Sometimes I would look at my house, my children, my husband and almost be in shock that they were mine. It was as if I was reading someone else’s life. It is a life I loved but just couldn’t really believe I was not the same 17-year-old girl playing volleyball for my high school team and scrapbooking with my friends after youth group at church.

But in the last few days all that has changed. My dad died suddenly just a week ago. My world was shattered last Monday morning when my mom told me what happened. I fell to the floor in hopes that this nightmare just could not be happening. He had a massive heart attack sitting in his favorite chair after going on walk, something that he loved to do, around a neighborhood that he was proud to call home. He loved life. He loved everyone in his life and everyone always knew that he loved them.

There was so much of my dad I still hoped to learn. There was never a moment that I didn’t feel special when I was around him. So much of me was him. I adored him. I respected him. My heart would jump when he’d show up for my high school volleyball matches. I still remember him walking in to the court with his khakis and white button up shirt he wore to work every day. He always told me that I was beautiful. He loved to send mom out with some money to buy me a new dress but always wanted me to try it on for him when I got home. We shared a special phone call recently after I attended my first C-section as a doula. I called him so excited and told him everything I had seen and had learned. He listened as if he had never attended one in his 30 years of medicine and reminded me that I was more like him that I ever realized. To care for another person when they are sick or in need of physical support is a special calling for doctors and although I was not a doctor, every birth I attended reminded me of his gentle bedside manner and the utmost care I was to give the mama I was attending to. In his presence, I always felt cared for, supported, and loved. Even once he gave me away in marriage, I knew his love and protection was ever present.

There was so much of my dad that my husband and I hoped he could teach us as a couple. My parents had been married for 36 years. They had their trials, as any marriage does, but they worked hard to make it wonderful. Never a harsh word, always an encouragement came from his mouth. A hug, a kiss, an invitation to dance was normal at every encounter. He would dance with my mom in the kitchen, on the patio; anywhere she’d indulge him. He loved her, thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and always believed in anything she wanted to do. He enjoyed her company. They loved to travel together and he always said she was the best travel companion. I saw the way he adored her, cared for her, provided for her, and loved her. Jeremiah, my husband, saw it too. He wants to be a husband like that to me and hoped he had many more years to learn from my dad.

There was so much of my dad that we hoped he could teach our children. I wanted my boys to grow up to be just like him. I wanted my little girl to know what it felt like to be that loved like that. My husband admired my dad and hoped for all those things for our children too. His love of traditions, knowledge of the night sky, interest in seeking out the mysteries of God, fondness for God’s creation, medicine, history, swimming in the ocean, hiking mountains, traveling the world. He used to say that he was a “jack of all trades, a master of none.” That served him well and was a true modern renaissance man. He would lay in the bed with the kids and make up stories of good guys, bad buys and Mr. Hawk and Mr. Eagle. He would wake them from sleep at the beach to explain the night sky and how to find the Big Dipper, Orion’s Belt, and the North Star. He would hold them tightly and wade out past the breakers in the ocean until they were calm enough to enjoy the magnitude of the sea. He would read every book requested by the kids.  He would tell them about Jesus and the miracle of his birth and sing to them his favorite Christmas song, “The Wonderful White World of Winter.” He would hold them, kiss them, hug them, tuck them in at night, and be excited to see them each morning. He thought that each of my children was the best blessing he could have ever gotten.

I realized all these wonderful gifts my dad contributed to our family were ever flowing. The thought of him not being here to continue to teach, love and care my family feels unbearable. The weight of his legacy seems impossible to fill. Henry asked “Daddoc was going to teach me to scuba dive, who will do that now?” I hesitated but told him I would most certainly teach him. Just that seems hard to commit to right now. I wanted my dad to do these things. I didn’t want to have to grow up just yet. I fear I would fail his legacy. I want more than anything to love my children the way my dad loved my brother and me. I want to love my husband the way my dad loved my mom. I want my children to know all about their Daddoc and the wonderful man that he was. I want to honor him in those ways. But, I know I cannot do it alone. My husband reminded me that God would help us. And in fact, my dad left a scripture underlined in his Bible with a note beside it. The note said “For Taylor, for Mimi’s death.” Mimi was my beloved grandmother, my dad’s mother who passed away when I was 19. The scripture said: For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. I have to believe that God will help me to be the wife, the mama, the sister, the friend, and the follower of Christ that he would have shown me to be.

 I have hope in reading 2 Peter: 1. It says…

“His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires. For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But whoever does not have them is nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed from their past sins. Therefore, my brothers and sisters, make every effort to confirm your calling and election. For if you do these things, you will never stumble, and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”

May I make every effort to honor my dad by making everyone who I meet know they are loved by me but, most importantly by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ who will help me to hold my mama’s hand any chance I get, tell incredible stories of Mr. Hawk and Mr. Eagle to Callaway at bedtime, to cherish my husband and enjoy our time together, and to treat each person with the dignity that he would have given each of his patients. His legacy will live on through our love for one another.