That wasn't my dad -

the man sitting in the wheel chair with his head hung down. My dad was the guy out pushing me on my bike, teaching me to drive a motorcycle, taking me camping and boating. He was the guy who would drive me to the river in his old blue truck, just so we could skip rocks and talk.

That wasn't my dad - the man who didn't know what year it was. My dad was the guy who never missed a play his grandkids were in, who came to their activities, who welcomed his great grandchildren into the family with words of wisdom whispered into their tiny ears.

That wasn't my dad - the man who couldn't feed himself any longer. My dad was the guy who was at my table for every holiday meal, putting his order in ahead of time for his favorite desserts. He was the guy who would get up at the crack of dawn to go get fresh donuts at the local bakery.

That wasn't my dad - the guy who garbled non sense. My dad was the guy who said things like, "Well, if that don't beat anything I ever did see." or "Dadgumit." and you knew exactly what he meant.

That wasn't my dad - the man who couldn't talk any longer. My dad was the guy people were drawn to in a room. He was the one entertaining the kids with card and magic tricks and the adults with jokes and stories from his youth. He was the man who would break into songs that he made up on the spot.

That wasn't my dad - the man who didn't know his family. My dad was the guy who loved his family with more than just words. He loved us with his actions. He loved us with his presence. He loved us with his whole being.

That wasn't my dad - the man who stared vacantly. My dad was the guy who had the same big brown eyes I see every time I look into Andi's. He was the guy who would take me out shooting guns and did the same with my kids. He was the guy who had mischief shine in his eyes.

That wasn't my dad - the man who didn't walk any more. My dad was the guy who played Army with all the neighborhood kids. He was the guy who would toss me up in the air in the swimming pool when I was a little girl. He was the guy I worked along side of willingly - just to get to spend time with him.

As I sat holding my dad's hand, praying God's will over him, I kept humming the song, "There Will Be A Day" quietly. As he left this world for his eternal home, I was able to let him go, knowing that I have the assurance that there will be a day when we will be together again and I will be with both my dad and my Heavenly Father.

Let us go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting Him...Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep His promise.
~ Hebrews 10:22-25, NLT