Today, March 7th, would have been my dad's 84th birthday,
but he's been gone for 13 years now.
I still have his phone number in my phone
and I imagine it will be there forever.
Some years, on this day, I say something on FB,
and some years I don't.
But today I thought I'd share some
memories of my dad
and honor him here on the blog.
My dad grew up in a little town
in south Texas.
He had 6 brothers and 2 sisters.
I have to be honest and add that he and his brothers
were kind of the outlaws of the town.
But, besides all of that...
he was my hero.
I loved my dad and to me, as a little girl,
my dad was the best man in the world,
as it should be.
Some of my earliest memories are of me,
standing at the door,
crying when he left.
I wanted to go wherever he would go.
He would buy me a new purse or a new doll
at the "dime store," every other weekend.
That's when I got to see him.
My parents were divorced when I was very young.
My dad would drive 2 1/2 hours to pick my brother and I up
for the weekend,
and then drive us home again.
Needless to say, I would cry every time
he left again.
As the years went by,
and I turned into a teen,
I would not see my dad as often
and I know that had to hurt him.
Those are regrets I would change,
if only I could.
Eventually I got married
and my dad put a tuxedo on with his
cowboy boots and stood at the back of the
church, ready to walk me down the aisle.
"I am so nervous!" I said, and he looked
at me and said,
"Let's do this!"
and was ready to get going,
down the aisle.
From that day on,
he would tell me that he knew he didn't
have to worry about me,
because he knew David would take good
care of me.
But, just in case,
he would slip me a $50 bill and
say..."Don't tell Ruby!"...which was
my step mom.
I would say, "Dad, I'm married now.
You don't have to give us money."
And he would just push it into my
hand and say "Keep it. You might
need some gas."
I love those memories.
If I could,
I'd take that money right now and
tell him how much we really appreciate him
and how his money blessed us for years to come.
This is one of my favorite pictures of my dad
because it portrays him perfectly.
This was his spot at the table,
whether for a meal
or reading the morning paper.
He's surrounded by tinfoil from
bbq, no doubt.
My dad was a great cook and made the best bbq.
But it wasn't the food that made the memories...
it was the stories that came with the times at the table.
He could tell the stories!
And they were hilarious and to this day
I still laugh as I recall some of the details
of his tales,
but mostly because he told them so well.
Tales of he and his brothers
and all the things they did.
Oh, we could listen to those stories all day.
Or the times he had a family of skunks living under his house
and he spent months trying to shoot them,
got sprayed,
had to dive into a ditch,
etc., etc.
I guess you had to be there as he was telling the story.
When my dad passed away in 2012,
as David and Ted sang
The Old Rugged Cross
at the FBC of Sinton, Texas,
I looked around at a standing-room-only
crowd that was wall to wall people.
One by one, friends of his would
stand and tell a story about Jimmy Hesseltine
and the room would nod their heads
and giggle or agree.
There were stories of how Jimmy helped someone in need.
Stories of what a great man he was
and how he would be greatly missed.
Stories that made me so proud to be his daughter.
The best story of all was the one about
him being baptized when he was
56 years old.
I was there to witness that.
And because of his faith in our savior,
I know that I will eventually see
my hero again.
Except he won't have a worn out body
or feel sick any more.
He will be whole and healthy and no doubt,
still wearing his cowboy boots and hat,
and I expect to hear...
"Hey darlin', it's your dad."
Just like the old days.
Happy Birthday Dad!
I know you're having the time of your life.
💙
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