My Dad

Handsome, isn't he?

On April 20, 2011, my dad stepped into eternity. Just 3 short weeks after he had called me to let me know that his time was running short.

I’m still processing the loss of him.

When I got back home one of my pastors asked me if dad & I had been close.

“We had a rocky start,” I replied, “but we were coming in for a great finish.”

Really, the finish is all that matters.

When my mom called to say Dad’s time was running out faster than we’d anticipated I jumped on the first plane I could catch. My son, Brandon, was all ready in Wilmington & texted me throughout the trip.

“Grampy says he’s going to wait for you to get here, mom. He loves you so much.”

He held out as long as he could, even refusing medication for the excruciating pain he was in. My dad was such a fighter.

It’s crazy, I have all these memories of dad – being my dad – and yet for the longest time I couldn’t see how much he genuinely loved me.

As my mom, my step-sister Cheryl & I were looking through photographs for Dad’s memorial service, I was shocked by just how many photos there were of dad & I. Dad’s time with his daughters, Cheryl & Crissy, was limited but he would often include me; taking me to the mall, McDonald’s, where ever they were planning to go. Then there were the times it was just he & I.

Dad & I had a lot to overcome in our relationship, but over the past 3 years or so we were talking more, sharing thoughts. He sent me a copy of his book, eager for my opinion. We even had a few conversations that were of the spontaneous – just thinking about ya for no particular reason – variety.

I’m so thankful for these. I so regret that there isn’t time for any more of them & that I didn’t take advantage of the time I had to invest in those moments.

My dad, was known as “Eddie the Baker” to those in A.A. Those who recognized that there was NO ONE quite like him called him “Special Ed”. He had acquired more “kids” than those born to him naturally. He was an amazing man, worthy of honor.

Dad on a camel ride in Egypt

Dad had lots of stories. He was an adventurer, a sojourner, a faithful husband, good father, loyal friend & a successful member of A.A (at the time of his death he had been sober for one month shy of 36 years). 

He had an unequalled collection of post cards from around the world, a notoriously poor sense of rhythm, a great knack for misinterpreting lyrics & an impeccably cheesy sense of humor that made me laugh all the time.

(dad) “Hey Fawn, how do you catch a unique rabbit?”

(me) “a snare?”

(Dad) “No, silly. You neak up on it!”

When dad realized he was not going to recover from his last hospitalization he sat up & planned his memorial service with my mom.

“I don’t want anything… “funerally”.” He said.

His musical requests included “The old rugged cross”; my mom’s recording of “He Is With You” (originally recorded by Mandeesa) and “Traveling Shoes”, by Elvin Bishop.

At first we didn’t think that last one would make it into the line up, but it’s got a catchy guitar riff, a great chorus and it was one of dad’s favorite songs. Mom would play this song on her itunes and dad would sit in his recliner & dance as only dad could do while sitting down.

Mom & I honoring Dad

In the end mom decided that the chorus of “traveling shoes” should be part of dads memorial. It provided a perfect opportunity to break out the groucho marx nose & glasses that dad was so fond of & boogie - just a lil.

Cheryl & Mom dancing

As in life, dad’s memorial service was like no other. There was dancing, laughter, tears, a clear gospel presentation & a call for those who are bound in addiction to get help.

April 20^th was a great day for my dad. No longer in pain, suffering from encepelopathy (a by product of cirrhosis of the liver, which causes disorientation & muddled thinking) or chained to an oxygen tank; he won his race & joined the crowd of witnesses that cheer the rest of us on, shouting, “It is worth it! Keep running!”

You set a great example, Dad! We're running!