So many emotions. All at one time. I just moved back home. It’s weird and It’s hard. To say the least.
And now tomorrow will be here before I know it. Tomorrow is my fathers birthday. He would have been 60 years old.
I don’t really know how to go about writing this blog to be honest. I even googled other blogs to get an idea as to what is appropriate to say or not to say, etc. but the reality is, I don’t really know, I just feel what I feel. Ya know?
Most of the people that read this blog have never met my father. I apologize sincerely. You really missed out. My father was an incredible man. He lived an amazing life and he changed so many lives around him. My father is a big reason as to why I’m here, alive, and going on the race, today. Here’s a little of our story.
Meet Gary. A food loving, loud, crazy, laughing, catholic, polish man, with a big big personality, and an even bigger heart. I remember late night trips to Perkins to eat a ton of breakfast food late at night, because well that’s the best time to eat it, and I remember soccer games with my father holding a clipboard and blowing a whistle yelling many of encouraging words at myself and my teammates as we used what little legs we had to kick that big old soccer ball as far as it would go. And I remember stops at the coffee shop on the way to school for a yummy strawberry bagel and creamcheese and a hot chocolate loaded up with so much whipped cream and sprinkles my mother would of had a heartattack if she knew. I remember super Saturdays at school where my father would teach a “pizza” class and we’d go through and make a billion personal pan pizzas with kids and we’d fill up Dixie cups with sausage and cheese and he’d have some cheesy song to go along with decorating the pizza and he always did some ridiculously basic magic trick with a box of crayons but the way he did it made it the coolest trick in the world. And I remember fish fries at church and I remember the feeling I got inside the deep cavity of my soul every day when he’d come home and scream “OHHHH HONNNEYYY I’M HOOOMEEE” and I’d race through the living room and into his arms. My father lit up a room. Everyone loved him. He had the biggest heart I’d ever seen and I hope to grow up to be even half the servant that he was.
There still, years later, isn’t really a day that goes by that I don’t miss him. I think about him everyday. So many things from pictures, to certain songs, to jokes, to things people say, spark memories which sparks this intense emotion within me. I’m not even sure how to really go about describing it… I just feel it. It hurts. Deep. In my core. In the little spot behind my rib cage, the spot where I’m convinced your soul is kept. Its more than an emotional feeling. It’s like it passes that and goes into a physical pain. Its like my heart literally feels like it’s breaking all over again and I could stop breathing at any second because I’m just so overwhelmed. It’s intense. I wonder if this feeling, or even just the intensity of this feeling will ever go away; but it hasn’t yet and I doubt it ever will, and that’s okay, because it reminds me of him and it reminds me of the fragilness of life. It reminds me that it’s possible to love so much it hurts. I never once doubted that he loved me; and loved me fiercely at that. He was at every game I had, many times coaching them. He was at every performance or important event, always with some big booming voice shouting out things that should have been embarrassing but weren’t for me. In every memory I have he was there. He was there in all the good times. He was there fighting for me when I couldn’t fight for myself. He was there during all my hard times with a big bear hug and the words I needed so desperately to hear. He loved my mother, and I’m thankful that I saw what a Godly marriage looks like. I’m thankful that he respected her, cherished her, supported her, and served her with a beautiful picture of what selfless love looks like. He loved everyone. He supported our community, the kids at school, members of the church, and just honestly anyone anywhere. He gave me a beautiful picture of a servants heart.
I still don’t understand God’s purpose for taking him. And honestly, I don’t know if I ever will. But if I were God, I’d take him too… he was a good one. And I know that he’s up there hanging with the Big Man probably orchestrating large buffets and feasts and gatherings with everyone in heaven. He’s probably telling jokes and bringing complete joy to all those around him. And well that’s all fine and dandy, it really sucks, because I now have the task of living the rest of my life without him. I’ll be honest and say I’m more than a little bummed out that my friends and loved ones now won’t get to know him, that he won’t be there to walk me down the aisle, that my future kids will never know their grandfather, and at this moment, I’m ridiculously bummed that he’s not here walking this journey of the world race with me. But even in death my father is still teaching me. He always will.
There was a long time in my life, after my father passed away, where I couldn’t see much beyond my grief. I was angry, I was pissed off, I was upset, I was sad, I was ridiculously broken, and I was lost. I lost belief and faith in God’s existence at all even. But thankfully God is a God of serious persuit and he worked some serious issues out with me having nothing but grace and love. And I know that I can trust him and that He wants great things for me. And I know that now as I give into his calling in my life, these plans are starting to move forward. I know that I am called to something more. I don’t have an idea as to what that looks like, but I know I can trust his guidance. And for now I know it’s the world race.
I prayed so hard for guidance for this decision and God gave me just that. I had a vision of myself sitting next to my father and across from Christ at a kitchen table, and my father just looked at me, embraced me, and spoke the following words, “My daughter, I am so proud of you. I’m proud of who you are, and of who you are becoming.” And I know, that he is. And I know that this is my step. To follow in the footsteps of my father and to try my hardest at being even just partly the selfless servant that he was.
the reality is, I miss my Daddy so much it hurts. And there are those days when I wish I could just skype heaven and hear is voice and see his face again. And there are just so many things I want to share with him. And it just hurts. Even now writing this, I feel it, in the pit of my chest cavity, the weight, the heaviness, the incredible sorrow; the undeniable ache, the pain.
I feel that way because I loved him so big. We were best friends.
As much as it well, sucks, it really is a beautiful thing to love someone so much it hurts. That sounds a little strange, right? But it really is. And that’s what Christ is about isn’t it? Loving me so much he felt the pain of it? Loving you so much he felt the pain of it? Loving his children and his people so much he bled. He hurt. So while tomorrow will be a rough day, I will celebrate it like I always do, I’ll write him a letter and send it up to heaven with a bouquet of balloons for him to add to his collection of letters, and I will miss him like crazy, and I will long for his embrace, and I will grieve, and I will be so distraught that I will physically hurt, but I will also be reminded of the beauty in his life, and the beauty in loving someone that much. I will be reminded of Christ’s love for me, and I will be reminded of the love I’m striving to give in my life.
So all that being said,
I ask that you celebrate my fathers birthday with me tomorrow in 3 ways.
1) Pray for our family.
2) tell your father especially but any loved ones around you that you love them. Put resentment and tension and unforgiveness aside for just a moment and love them. And
3) Please consider supporting me in this journey, for him, for me, and for the Kingdom.
My father would have been 60 years old tomorrow. I ask that you consider donating $60 on his behalf. If you can’t do a full 60, that’s okay, any little bit helps. I am still $3,000 away in my support account to be able to launch. The deadline is June 6th if you’re sending a check and it’s just a week later for online donations. So please help me take this journey that I am called to take.
