I lost my Dad four years ago on Super Bowl Sunday, which, if you knew him, you would know it seemed fitting and appropriate that it happened on that day.
I had a lot of respect for my Dad, but a lot of anger, too. I was able to forgive him. However, the pain of some of his words still linger.
In many ways, even though he was short (in his estimation) for a man, and always carried a chip on his shoulder because of it, he was also bigger than life to all of us in our family.
Below is the blog post, with minor revisions, I wrote two years ago where I was reminiscing about him.
Dad, this ones for you!
My father passed away two years ago on a Super Bowl Sunday, that Sunday, however, was February 2.
Dad had been having trouble here at home, which had sent him to the hospital and then rehab. One of my sisters, who lives in another state, wanted to spend some time with him and help get him back to better health. Therefore, we decided when he left rehab for him and hubs (to help with transfers, etc.) to fly to her home state for Dad to visit.
Things were going pretty well until he had a small incident with his heart that sent him to the hospital. He was there for a while and then sent to rehab again. Things were progressing really well at rehab, but he was lonely. My sister’s FLMA (Family Leave and Medical Act) time was up, so I decided to fly out to visit for a short time.
While I was there, his doctor decided to release him from rehab on February 2. I was scheduled to fly home on January 29. I tried everything I could think of to delay my flight, but without a substantial penalty, I couldn’t. Naturally, I turned to prayer!
On January 28 a massive ice/snow storm was predicted for the south, where I was flying back to. In the early AM of January 29th, I received a message my flight had been canceled. I jokingly told my brother-in-law that the Lord had answered my prayers. He, not so jokingly, replied that he really didn’t think the Lord inconvenienced the entire South for my benefit.Whoa!! Talk about me being put in my place! We got 13 inches of snow where I was. I don’t remember ever seeing that much snow in my life and definitely not from the start of snowfall to the end. It was COLD but very, very pretty. (Side Note-we got 10 inches this year-2018, in Alabama, no less!!)
We all went to see Dad and joked about the weather, lamented about his beloved Cowboys not being in the Super Bowl and teased each other about our choices of winner. Everyone was in high spirits looking forward to Dad being out of rehab and the upcoming Super Bowl.
On the morning of February 2, Dad got up, ate breakfast, teased with the nurses and CNA’s (he always said he’d be a tease till the day he died, and he was!). He took his shower, shaved, got back in bed for a little bit to warm up from his shower-and never got up again.
There were so many things about Dad that were admirable, and quite a few that weren’t, also. He was a dedicated and hard worker. He cared very much for his family. He even, when our car broke down, and we didn’t have money to repair it, rode a bicycle to and from work, in all kinds of weather and at all hours of the day or night-whatever his schedule dictated. There were times he could be unbelievably sarcastic and cruel, but he never asked anything of anyone that he wasn’t willing to do himself.
He worked for several years for the Dallas Cowboys, during their golden years with the Jimmy Johnson dynasty. And, even though he could not stand owner Jerry Jones, he was fiercely loyal to the Cowboys. (Loyalty, to a fault sometimes, was another of his good qualities.) I have some wonderful memories of visiting the old Cowboy’s stadium, along with some fantastic pictures-my kids have run off with the pictures!
So, every Super Bowl Sunday is bittersweet for me. I’m sure it will be even worse when the Cowboys finally do play a Super Bowl game again.
Dad, one day soon, your beloved Cowboys will win the Super Bowl again!