Today is my daddy's birthday. And every year since his passing, I have thought about him on this day in a special way. At first, April 19th brought sadness. But as time has passed, that sorrow has changed to sweet memories, and overwhelming gratitude for that life that began on April 19, 1935 - a life that has been the greatest influence on my own, and one that overshadowed, loved, guided, and blessed my life for my first 37 years.
As I think of my daddy today, the picture to the right is how I remember him. This photo was the last one ever taken of him - a quick snapshot that seemingly caught him by surprise, from a family reunion just a few months before his death. He was 68 years old when he passed suddenly and unexpectedly from this life, so he is forever 68 in my mind. But today, he would be 80 years old. As I think about that I wonder . . . what would he look like now? How would his health be? Would he still have that sharp, intelligent mind? And would his fascination with nature, space, history and books still be as vibrant? Would he still be gardening, woodworking, fishing, and hunting? Forever 68. And though in many ways, it seems like he hasn't been gone for that long, a lot has happened in the ensuing 12 years. When that tragic accident occurred in 2003, our girls had just turned 13, and Caleb was 10. Now, the girls are 24. Both have graduated from college, Becca is working on her 2nd degree, and Sarah is married with a baby on the way. Caleb is 22, and will graduate in a few weeks from Texas A&M, and is looking for his first "big boy" job. That's a lot of time and living!
As anyone who has lost someone special knows, I think of my daddy most during those big moments of life. I think of how proud he would be of his grandchildren, and all they've accomplished. Mostly he would be proud of their faithfulness to God. I thought of him when Sarah told us she was pregnant, and imagined how excited he would be to become a great-grandfather. He would've been a great one indeed, because he was a wonderful Papa. And I have no doubt he will be in my thoughts in a few weeks when our family gathers to watch Caleb walk the stage and receive his Bachelor's degree.
I also thought of him a lot last weekend. Jeff and I went out to dinner Sunday evening after worship services with some life-long friends of mine - - friends who knew and loved my dad for almost as many years as I did. While discussing some events of that day, these friends said, "Your dad would be really proud of y'all." That meant a lot, because I always wanted to make him proud. I still do. And it touched me to know that Jon and Betty thought of him in that way.
So today, on what would've been his 80th birthday, I am thankful, and the memories make me smile. I'm thankful that on April 19, 1935 a baby boy was born in a little frame house in Kilgore, Texas to Clifford and Miriam Meadows. Thankful that I was blessed with the best I could've ever hoped for in a father - a man who loved God above all else, and led his family to do the same, and I am forever appreciative of all I learned from him. Thankful that I had him for 37 years - I know many who have not enjoyed that much time with their parents. Grateful that my children have their own cherished memories of their Papa, and thankful as well for sweet friends who remember him, and continue to share their memories and thoughts about him. But I am most thankful to my Heavenly Father who provided a way of salvation, and that blessed hope of being reunited with all of the faithful one day in eternity. We will have a lot of catching up to do.
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| May 1994 One of my favorite places to be - the backyard swing with my daddy |
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