Dear Dad:
I have a picture from when I was a toddler and I'm sitting atop your shoulders with the biggest smile on my face. You're holding me up proudly and I clearly couldn't be happier. I don't remember that moment specifically, but every time I look at that picture I'm reminded of the wonderful dad that I had the pleasure to have for fourteen years of my life. I remember the times you took me on bike rides and I remember trying to be just like you as you rode with one hand down by your side.
I remember the times that I tried to pretend to be sick in the nurse's office, only to hear your keys jingling down the hall with the question of why I was in there. I remember your corny jokes and still make it a point to use them whenever possible. I remember riding with you to work one day and getting a Happy Meal with a little toy dog inside it. I remember seeing you on the sidelines of my volleyball games taking pictures and videos. I remember the time you took us all mini golfing on your day off. I remember our family vacation to Disney World and the fun we had as a family. Those were the good moments.
But sometimes, I let myself get lost in the hurt. I get lost in what could have been, but won't get to be. I think of my high school graduation and all the pictures that were taken without you in them. I think of the day I moved into college and wonder what you would have thought of my new home in Tennessee. I think of the day I'll get married and the first dance that was supposed to be with you. I think of the daily celebrations that I wish I could call and tell you about. I think of the questions I would ask you and wonder what you would say. I think of the countless holidays that I don't get to spend with you.
Yet, each time I think of the what if's and the what could have been's, I'm immediately reminded of the picture with me atop your shoulders smiling happily and carefree. I'm reminded of the good times and the smiles. I'm reminded of the laughs and the silly moments. I'm reminded of the times you made me feel like the most grown up little girl in all the world. I'm reminded of the times you listened intently as I shared excitedly about something that had happened or that I was going to get to do. I remember seeing your proud face in the stands at my games. I remember your faithfulness to God and your commitment to trust him through the cancer.
Even in your passing, you kept teaching me. Your resolve to serve God until your last breath has been an inspiration and a motivation for me. Your commitment to love our family has comforted me. Your role as my dad is one that I only got to experience for a short time. Yet, even 6 years later, I am still learning from you and learning from the life that you lived. I get to hear stories from people you impacted and realize that you probably weren't even aware of all the lives you were touching.
I think of your funeral and the massive amount of people that showed up. I think of the people that I didn't even know who came up and hugged me, telling me how special you were and how much you meant to them. Did you know that, dad? Did you know how heavily God would work in your life when you said yes to Him? Did you know that you would have a daughter that would seek to follow your example? Because I do, dad.
Every day, I long to make you proud. I long to do the things that remind me of you, and I find that I have a passion for many of those activities too. I long to be the woman that you and mom prayed I would be from the moment I was born. I long to let God use your death in my life in a way that completely glorifies Him because although it hurts, your legacy continues to impact people through your impact on me. So, even though I wish every day that you could be here for the big and small moments. I know that losing you has resulted in God doing some huge things in me. I know that losing you means that you are with Him, free from pain and free from cancer. I know that losing you means that you aren't here to celebrate with me on earth, but it also means that you will always be in my heart.
Love Forever,
Your Little Girl
