We always think we will remember the special celebrations, like Father's Day. I could tell you about today; what we did, what we had for lunch, who was with us, what the kids gave me. Last year, not so much. The only other Father's Day I can remember with any kind of detail at all is the one when I last saw my own father. He didn't know it because he was in a coma from a massive brain hemorrhage he suffered earlier in the day. It's amazing how a crisis burns a trail in our minds. Before we got the call, it was a pretty ordinary Father's Day, complete with cookout, family, gifts, laughter. The day ended in tearful prayers, holding hands, and remembering a man whose quiet faith and faithfulness blessed us for our entire lives. At his funeral, all his grandsons save one, and two of his grandson-in-laws gave tribute to his influence in their lives, mentioning particularly the legacy of having all his children and all his grandchildren, and all his great-grandchildren of age to know, following Jesus Christ.
I am a grateful and a better man because of influence of the father I was able to honor for so many years. They are big shoes to fill; I only hope my children will be able to say the same of me some day.
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