My dad was born October 20, 1942, in East Texas to Joseph and Pauline.
He was son #4 out of five children.
I did not call him daddy while he was alive.
I did not love him with a free heart.
He did not know how to show love my brother and I, and later when he became sick, it was very hard to show love to anybody. Barely mom.
Daddy died in July 1999.
I know he was allowed to wait til mom was able to be with him.
ALL his grandchildren happened to be in town and were able to go to the funeral.
Since then, I have come to appreciate the man he was.
I am able to choose what memories I hold on to and re-visit.
My daddy was quite a handsome fellow.
He had a twinkle in his eye.
He had a talent of making others feel important.
He could out quip anyone.
He taught me morals, and respect.
He loved my mother with every fiber of his being.
It showed in his face when he looked at her.
They were best friends and were so reliant on each other.
He loved doing things with family.
He loved visiting others.
He made sure we attended church.
He made sure we respected our mother.
He had wanderlust, always looking for something better.
He moved us a lot all over Texas, never out of town during the school season, with a new job already lined up.
He decided to be a mortician because it was steady work and always needed.
He was perfect at respecting and comforting others in their time of loss.
He made sure that the gross part of his job was kept from my brother and I.
I know he watches over me.
I know he watches over my mother and it comforts me.
I feel his presence and I love him now, the way I couldn't then, with a free heart.
I look forward to seeing him again, and loving him the way we both can now.
I love you daddy, and I miss what we weren't, and look forward to what we will be!
I am now proud to call you my friend!
(I do not have any pictures of my dad on this computer, however my son DJ (on the side bar) looks just like him)
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