Happy Birthday

There will probably be more than one post today to update you as the day goes on. Dad slept fairly well until about 3:30 a.m. His lungs began hurting and he had to get morphine at 4:00. He only got three doses, and has been pain med free since them. While this is no fun, it isn't unexpected. While the fluid is gone, the conditions he developed as a result still have to be dealt with. Mom was up with him almost all night, not because it was such a bad night, she just likes to sit by his bed until one of us kids forces her to go to the room to sleep. Pray for her ... she needs some spiritual insulation. Exhaustion is tapping her reserves dry. He isn't able to keep much down, but isn't in much pain. We are continuing to pray for God's intervention. Pray with us!

Dad is such an amazing man. Today, his birthday, is a day we have always celebrated with him. We are all blessed to be able to be in Dallas together today. He is still too weak to truly celebrate with him, but we can use the blog to celebrate him, and he can enjoy it when he is stronger. There are amazing men who have given much, done much for others, sacrificed much and made a mark on the world. Most of you know of Dad's incredible generosity with his time, effort, love and finances first hand, but I believe my Dad is exceptional because he did all these things while taking nothing from his family.

Growing up, Dad worked a lot of hours at UPS. But when he came him, the office was left behind and he was truly with us. He had no outside hobbies that did not include us, dinnertime was sacred (at the table, TV off, all together), cheerful and involved in our lives. As a parent, I view our home life as nothing short of miraculous. What commitment and strength it takes to pull off that kind of consistently balanced home. Mom worked outside the home most of my life, but she pulled off the dinner at the table (I can't remember a meal that didn't have a full place setting, tablecloth/place mats, cloth napkins, correct utensil placement, the works), and a cheerful atmosphere. He drilled a couple of things into us:

a) Relationship with God and family is paramount. Long before anyone told me this was how to order my life, Mom and Dad lived it via example, family altar nights (reading Cross and the Switchblade, Hiding Place and God's Smuggler), and church on Sunday a.m., p.m., Wednesday nights. Our social life centered around church services, activities and friendships. I can't remember one night when Dad called to say he'd be home late because he was going to happy hour or out with the guys.

b) Work first, then play. Saturday mornings, we were up early (Tommy says 5:00 a.m., I think it was 8:00), doing chores, but then it was play time. We were off to the lake with the boat. Waterskiing was our family thing, and we loved it (except Mom, who couldn't watch for fear we would break our necks). When Dad skiied, you could literally feel him pull the boat back when he was cutting back and forth. It kind of reinforced the bigger than life, stronger than a 360 hp inboard boat motor, at least in our minds.

c) We were made to find pleasure in work. This kind of goes hand in hand with the lesson above. I have loved every job I have ever held. I don't just think this is because I was lucky at finding jobs. My Dad taught me to find pleasure in the work I did and in doing it exceptionally well. He has a strong work ethic, but an equally strong sense of fun. He taught that the two are not mutually exclusive but are good partners for satisfying work. I know few people who have effectively communicated this to their kids, and they are doing them such a disservice.

d) Party! No one loves a party more than Dad. He's the center of all the action, lampshade on his head and all (Mom standing to the side shaking her head and ejoying every bit of it). Where he differs in this mentality is that he parties without the need of chemically altering his mood. He takes complete joy in each moment and is able to sweep everyone around him along for the ride. I think that's what makes him such a magnet. He is a mood altering substance (kind of like a virus that infects everyone around him with joy). I've known many people like him in reverse, pulling everyone down around them, but he is unique in his ability to elevate those around him to greater joy and performance. If there weren't other people, we would have a party just with our family. I remember hours of playing games (Nertz, Killer, I Doubt It a/k/a B.S., board games, etc.) and our parents actually played with us.

Is it any wonder that during the only time in his life he has been seriously ill, all of his children are eating, sleeping, praying, praising, and sitting by his bed willing him (if we only could) to get better. I know of other families who have to make a schedule to "cover" hospital shifts. Dad is the only one I know who has a physical line of people waiting to sit by his bed while he sleeps. There are at least two or three of us sleeping in the room with him, and more would be here if we could fit. If love, prayers, wishes, tears and begging could have him healthy and partying today, he most surely would be having a birthday blowout of unprecedented proportions. But the reward for Dad's unselfish generosity to his family isn't in that kind of celebration. It's eternal and yet to be enjoyed ("later, later -- not right now, right now").