Lewis Grizzard wrote about his father in his book, “My Father Was A Pistol and I’m a Son of a Gun.” He said, “You never stop loving your daddy.”
The drive from Lake Charles to Lafayette usually takes me a little over an hour. I’ve been making this trek for quite some time each week to visit my elderly father.
But the trip last week was different. I really did not want to arrive at my destination: the funeral for my dad. Some things we just don’t want to face. This was certainly one.
He lived for 92 years. He and my mother raised five sons. He was a hero to me. He served in the U.S. Navy in World War II in the Seabees. He has been such a stable presence in my life.
He taught me how to ride a bicycle. How to put on a tie. How to drive a car. How to change a flat tire. How to write a check and balance the checkbook. Countless things. He provided the means for my college and theological education. He taught his five sons so much by word, but more by example. The love of a good father means everything.
The writer of Ecclesiastes affirms that there is a time to be born and a time to die. He also says there is a “time to weep.” I have certainly found that to be true.
At the visitation we told stories and shared good memories. At the funeral we celebrated his life. At the grave side we committed him into the hands of God. I believe with all my heart that he is with my mother again, and that life is just beginning for him.
But I already miss him. I really do. Grizzard was right. You never stop loving your daddy.