Daily Devotionals

Devotional: February 3rd

When I was six years old I noticed that there were other people who must have been a whole lot older than be just because they were all bigger. My parents kept telling me that I would grow bigger the older I got. Mom told me one time that I asked her, "Is Dad really old? He's so big." Dad was, to a six year old, huge. Now, he wouldn't have been very big at all.

Dad was, in his prime, almost six feet two inches tall. He was very slim built possessing a metabolism that could have fueled the electricity for our little town. He weighed all of one hundred and sixty five pounds soaking wet...holding rocks. Heavy rocks. He was very cautious to not let himself get overweight. I never understood why, but I do know that in his last years, being thin was a blessing for him.

My Dad died six years ago today of an unexpected heart attack. He and Mom had moved to Melbourne, Florida in order to get Mom into a facility which could help her overcome some serious stroke problems she had had for most of the year in 1997. She almost died late that year. Her hospitalization was more than Dad could bear. He never wanted to leave 34Maple Street in Jeffersonville, Ohio. But, to save the life of his beloved "Dot", he did.

That was Dad. He showed me a silver dollar once that he carried. It had his birth date, 1921, on it. Some years back, I asked him to show me that silver dollar. I was surprised when he told me he no longer had it. When I asked why he responded, "You never went hungry, did you?" That and other wonderful memories form the core of my recollections of a life well lived. My father was, next to my wife, my best friend. We told each other everything. He took some things to the grave with him as I shall do.

My last memory of my Dad was hugging him as we prepared to leave my sister's place in Florida. His last words to me were, "I love you, Tom." Someday I will be with Dad again, for Dad belongs to my Lord and Savior. My last memory of my Dad is my constant memory of my Lord. I remember that He died for me on Calvary and raised from the grave in triumph. And when He did, He said, "I love you, Tom." My Dad told me so.

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