In honor of my dad

So Valentine's Day is tomorrow.  I thought it would be appropriate to write about my first love...my dad.

I have found myself thinking of him so much lately.  It seems that everywhere I go I am reminded of him.  I guess since his passing in September, I have been really good about keeping myself busy.  Our adoption process has taken up so much of my time and combine that with Thanksgiving, Christmas, and our recent trip to Uganda along with life with 3 children and it is easy to see how I was able to forget put aside how much I miss my dad.  Now that things have calmed down a bit, everything reminds me of him.  There is an emptiness in my life without him here.  The realization that he is not going to pick up the phone when I call or walk down the hall when I go home to visit.  It makes me so sad to know that Alex, along with his younger cousins, Riley and Mason will never know who their grandfather was.  As sad as I am that he isn't here, I have a peace that he is right where he should be. I know he is with Jesus and is perfect and happy and more beautiful than I can imagine.  I also know that I will see him again some day.   I still miss him.  I still selfishly want him here with us.

At my dad's funeral I had the honor of speaking and sharing a little about my his life. I wanted to let people know who Shad Phillips was through my eyes and I'd like to share some of what I said here.

"My daddy was one of the greatest blessings of my life and I know that without him I wouldn't be the woman I am today. He supported me, encouraged me and loved me. He was a good man with a big heart who was always willing to help out anyone in need.  If you needed a place to stay, our home was always open. If you needed money, he'd give what he had and if you had something that needed to be repaired the he would grab his tools and come fix it.  He was the dad who never missed a dance recital or sporting event. In fact, he was the coach for many of the teams my brothers and I were on. He loved to fish on the pier at the beach and when I was young, I loved the nights he would let me tag along so I could just sit with him in the silence while we waited for a fish to bite.  As I got older, I can recall many nights of him sitting with me on my bed talking me through one teenage crisis after another. Lastly, one of my favorite memories is of riding in the car and listening to him sing along to old school country music and my friends and I giggling because we thought he sounded like Kenny Rogers."

What I would do to hear his voice again.  To see his face again.  To hug him and tell him I love him.

They say that a father is a daughter's first love.  I believe this is true. 

He was my first love.
He was my hero.
He was my daddy.