My Dad Was My Cheat Sheet

Today marks ten years since I lost my Dad. Not a day has passed where I still don't think about him. Countless times, I needed to call and ask him to walk me through a tough spot, but he was gone. All I have left is the hope that I will see him again and the lessons he taught me one day. But more than that, I have the memories of our time together, the laughter, the advice, the love. These memories keep him alive in my heart. 

I thought it fitting to contemplate this day by sharing the introduction to a book I am writing for my own children, as one day, all they will have is the hope and lessons I treasure. 

Preface

November 26, 2014, is a day I will never forget. It was the day that I held my Dad's hand for the last time. There were many things to admire about the "old man," but few attributes compared with his hands. His hands were strong and gentle both at the same time, and that's a rare find these days. On this day, however, there would be little strength left in my Father's hands.

One year, almost to the day before this dreadful day, the man who had been wrestling with colon cancer got word that no man is prepared to hear. The love of his life (my mom) had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and she would have less than nine months to live. He would outlive her by three months.

Dad did what real men do when he heard the news about Mom. He put his treatments on hold to care for his bride. In Dad's mind, walking Mom through her last months wasn't a decision he needed to wrestle with. He spent his life caring for her, and this season would be no different. I believe Dad knew what he was doing. He didn't have to ask for advice from anyone; he was fully aware that his decision to focus on his wife would cost him his own life. It was an honor for him to be her caregiver through this tragic season.

The night Dad passed, his kids, his siblings, and others who loved him stood beside his bed. As he labored to let go of this life and enter the next, I had the profound privilege of holding his hand. The significance of that moment has not escaped me. His hand was the first to hold mine; now, mine was the last he would grip. I could not have scripted that part any better.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss him. Even all these years later, I still pick up my phone and start to call him, only to remember he's gone for good. But his wisdom and love continue to guide me, and I am determined to pass on these invaluable lessons to you, my children, and anyone else who may stumble onto these pages. His teachings are not lost, they live on in me and in the words I share with you.

Introduction:

February 18, 2001, in the world of Nascar, is a day that will never be forgotten. On the final lap of that fateful race, Dale Earnhart Sr. held third place and used his number 3 Chevy and his years of experience as a buffer for the two men racing for their first career win at the Daytona 500. The two men racing ahead of him were his good friend and employee, Michael Waltrip, and his son, Dale Earnhart Jr.

As Waltrip edged out Dale Jr. for his first Nascar win, Dale Sr. was bumped and hit the wall at an estimated speed of 180mph. The crash would rock the racing world, and NASCAR president Michael Helton later addressed the incident by saying, "We've lost Dale Earnhart."

Dale Jr's words after the horrific news of his Dad's death serves as a reminder to us of how quickly a dad can be taken away.  Dale Jr. choked back the tears as he said, "Having Dad was like having a cheat sheet. Having Dad was like knowing all the answers to everything. And I was like, man, I will have to do this without that for the rest of my life." His words echo the feelings of many who have lost a father, a loss that is universal and deeply felt.

That expression from Dale Jr. gave words to feelings I could never express when it came to the loss of my own Dad. Many know the emptiness of facing the rest of our lives without their "Cheat Sheet." The loss of a dad is a seminal moment in the life of a child. It marks each of us in ways we cannot communicate because it's a wound more profound than words are able to express. It is a wound God never intended for us to have. In my experience, it is a wound that remains open and will never heal this side of heaven. 

A few years before my Dad passed, I was on a course that I had chosen when I was very young. I was determined to not be like my father. What my father lacked, in my eyes, I was determined to have. I would get an education, own my own home, and be able to fill my gas tank full each time it was needed. 

My heart started to change when Dad got sick. God's grace helped me see that my father possessed all the right qualities and that my eyes had been on the wrong goals. As I spent more time with him during his illness, I began to understand and appreciate his strength, resilience, and love. As I said at his funeral: "I spent the first 25 years of my life trying to be everything my dad wasn't, and now I'll spend the rest of my years trying to be everything I've come to see that he was". 

I lost Dad at a time in my life when I was just beginning to realize the gift he was. He was my cheat sheet, and now I navigate the rest of this life without his wisdom – the answers to the tests. His lessons on perseverance, love, and the importance of family continue to guide me, even in his absence. 

For some readers, you already know what it's like to lose your cheat sheet. For the rest of you, that day will come. To my own children, the day will come when I won't be here to be your cheat sheet. It is my hope that the lessons we have learned together and the those in this book will help you navigate through those moments. Being your Dad has been the greatest joy of my life.