Last Monday my dad went home to be with his Lord. My dad was one of those people that everyone knew and loved. Anyone who met him was greeted with love and acceptance.
Growing up, Dad was the one I'd turn to if I wanted something. I'd snuggle close under his arm, look up at him, bat my eyes, and say, "Daaaddyy..." He'd melt and give in almost every time. Being Daddy's Little Girl was one of the best roles of my life. I felt safe and loved, accepted and cherished. Even as an adult, Dad would put his arm around me and I'd turn back into his little girl. He used to sing this little diddy to us girls when we were growing up. "Roly poly! Daddy's little fatty. Roly poly! Daddy's little girl." We never got offended at the reference to fatness because we really only heard "Daddy's little girl".
Dad was sentimental to some degree. He would carry pictures of his children and grandchildren in his wallet until they literally fell apart. He was one who'd whip out the photos to proudly show off his family. I finally took to making photo sweatshirts for his gifts. He'd wear those shirts until the photos no longer showed up. And you've never seen anyone more proud to show off a shirt! Fashion and money never meant anything to him. Family and friends were his world and we knew it.
Dad was someone different to everyone. He was a teacher. A mentor. A friend. A marriage counselor. A dad. A brother. A husband. An encourager. He was just what the person needed. He knew how to talk to people to put them at ease and allow them to open up to him so he could share in their lives however they needed him.
Dad was so giving. He had no need for money. If he'd had millions of dollars, it wouldn't have lasted long because he would have given it away. If he saw a need, he tried to meet it. If Mom wanted a new shirt, he never denied her. He'd have given away the one on his back if someone needed it. Although, I'm glad no one ever did! Dad was not a small, fit man. :)
But, what I'll miss most of all about my dad is my laughter buddy. From time to time our conversations would be serious, but mostly we just laughed. We laughed about anything and everything. My mom and Mr Farmer had to band together to try and settle us down. When that wouldn't work, they'd just comfort each other, roll their eyes together, and pretend to get upset. Dad and I never had to have something specific to get us laughing. We found humor in literally everything and played off each other to take it to a ridiculous level. There was no limit when we got together.
I will miss my dad more than I can ever express. I think many people will. But I am blessed to have had him for 41 years as my dad.