Anniversary

Ten years ago this morning shortly after my Daddy looked at me and said "Sure, Hon" he slumped to my kitchen floor, took his last breath in this fallen world and opened his eyes to see Jesus ushering him into the mansion he'd lived his life to see. Ten. Years. There are times when the pain will hit me again just as sharp and breath taking as it did those awful days immediately following. There are times when I just feel incredibly blessed that I had him as a Dad, a hero, and a role model as long as I did. As always, I dread the day as it approaches but this year God has allowed me peace and comfort and precious memories. I thank Him for that. Last year, for whatever reason, I descended into a horrible black pit of pain and despair that totally took me by surprise. I guess it's the way of grief and goodbyes that are unfortunately a part of this fallen world.

I always loved my Daddy --- I was one of those obnoxious girls who thought her Dad knew everything there was to know and could and would make any and everything all right. There wasn't a problem he didn't know how to fix. There wasn't a hurdle so high he couldn't get over it. This my dear reader(s) was not simply a figment of my childish imagination. It was indeed, a fact. I remember the exact moment in my life when I realized I madly loved this man. It had always been there, but that adult "aha" moment when the emotion knocks you for a loop? I remember that very second. I was in college - working as what was used to be called a "Checker" at Safeway. (For you poor young ones, that was the proper term for those who checked you out at the grocery store. We didn't have scanners. We had in fact those giant cash registers with 100 keys on them. I was fast, peoples! Fast.) But I digress. In those days of yore, televisions had these things called tubes and when they went bad you had no picture. There was this big tester at Safeway where people could bring their questionable tubes in and figure out which one had ceased to work. I was working when out of the corner of my eye I saw Daddy walking into the store. He was wearing his work uniform -- dark blue work pants, blue shirt with his name and dark blue jacket. His ever present cap was on his head - pushed back and a little askew and he had his old wire rim glasses on. For no longer than it took me to think the thought I had that momentary feeling of dismay -- "Oh no. People will know that I have parents! People will know my dad is a blue collar worker." Before those thoughts were fully completed in my little brain though I distinctly remember being flooded with powerful protective feelings that would have allowed me to totally deck anyone who would have even thought to be critical or condescending. I stepped over to where he was and greeted him, asked if I could help and said good bye....it was the briefest of exchanges - he took care of his business, smiled and said "bye, hon" and away he went. I can't describe exactly what took place that day inside my heart - in that moment I saw a man. I was cut to the quick that for the briefest of moments I was tempted to be ashamed.

I didn't always make the best of decisions after that day - I know I wasn't always respectful. I didn't always cherish our time together. I took him for granted. But never ever again did I have a moment when I wasn't proud to be his daughter. He died without having much the world judges as successful. He never got to travel like he wanted. He never got his camper. He never even got to quit working until he was too sick to do anything else. He was just your ordinary man living an ordinary life in an ordinary world. I remember a time when our preacher had met a man at a little Mom and Pop grocery store. He was sharing Jesus with him and looking for common ground. He told the man that Daddy was a member of his church. The man was very impressed and I'll always remember what he said -- "That Coy Finnell! He don't even cuss." He was a man of his word, a handshake was a binding agreement -- he was a take-the-cart-back man of integrity and I want to live my life in such a way that reflects those same values. I wanted him to be proud of me all my life. I still do. I rested in his love when he was here and I rest in the knowledge that he is walking with Jesus now.

I miss you, Daddy. We didn't get to eat a Grand Slam breakfast tonight like we have been doing each year on this day (Denney's was his favorite place to eat) but we're going to soon. No matter what, poor weather or tight schedule, I take the cart back to the store. I leave a tip. I try to keep my promises. I don't even cuss. I think about you in your chair at 4:00 a.m. reading your Bible when I get up and curl up in my chair to read it too. I love a good joke. I play to win. And I miss you. A lot.