Humbled

This Christmas was much like the most recent years, San Antonio with Andi's family and Abilene with my Mom, Dad and Granddad.

This year marks the third year without my Mother-In-Law, first year without my Granny, 9th year without my Grandma, the 10th Christmas without my lil' sister around, and the 6th Christmas without my lil' brother around.

Andi and I have been honored to host my parents and Granddad two of the last three years in our home in Abilene. It makes sense. We have a big 3 bedroom home with lots of room (and now Direct TV), so everyone has a comfortable place to be. Our home is always open to family, friends, strangers and anyone who needs a place to stay.

So why am I humbled? You see, my dad is dying a slow degenerative death from multiple sclerosis. He was diagnosed almost 20 years ago, and within the last 10 years he has completely lost the function of his legs, and now he is starting to loose the function of his hands. I can honestly sit here in my hotel room tonight and say that I cannot remember what my dad was like before the MS. Most of those years I was dealing with my own health problems and the bone disease. I blamed him for my own disease and made sure that I wasn't around much. I didn't see him active very much, I don't really remember him running. He never wore shorts, or tennis shoes. He always wore boots and jeans, or boots and slacks. But I can't remember him being an active man.

I was never very close with my dad. In fact, I have never had a serious conversation with my dad. He too had the bone disease as a child/adolescent and it effected his hearing early, forcing the use of a hearing aid by his early 20's. Conversations seemed hard to have with him as a little kid.

When I read "Wild at Heart" (several times) it wasn't hard for me to identify my "wound" that is left in the hearts of boys by their father. I wouldn't confront the wound or forgive him for it, until six years ago. I forgave him in my heart, never confronted him (as I knew he wouldn't understand) and I never looked back.

I don't know much about my dad. I know he moved a lot as a child, he went to school in Floydada, Hereford, and graduated from Dumas HS. He was in choir and woodshop. He went to West Texas State (now WTAMU) and was majoring in computers or something of the like. Met my mom, and married a year later. He dropped out of college and started working. He had two jobs during my life, grain elevator operator and engineer tech for TxDOT. Most of the stuff is superficial, nothing profound or deep. And sadly, I know even less of his father my Gramps (he died when I was 5).

So why am I humbled? When I am in the presence of my dad, I get to take care of him. It is even more difficult to verbally communicate with him. He is now 62, continues to deteriorate, and has an incredible attitude (for the most part). I got to cut his hair, trim his neck, and give him an old fashioned barber shop shave. I got to put his clothes on, transport him from the bed to his chair. I got to help him open his presents. And the most humbling moment was when I had the honor to clean him up and change his brief.

Why is this humbling? God chose me to take care of my dad over the past several days. He chose me to to cut his hair, deal with the stresses of his disease, deal with the stress of family. He chose me to be the one to learn and grow through this experience. I cannot count the number of times I have done all of these things before, but this time was the most profound.

Why you ask? Well, Andi and I are trying to get pregnant. I want my dad to see his grandchild, to hold his grandchild, to cuddle with his grandchild. I want my son or daughter to know him like I never knew him. I kept thinking, what an honor it is to care for you. What an honor it is to have a hand in meeting your needs. But mostly, I kept thinking how I wish I could be a little kid again to know my dad.

I know that my Dad is proud of me, he loves me, and he enjoys my company. But I still don't really know my Dad. I am running out of time with him, I know it. How can I ever really know him at this stage in my life? I can't shove 35 years of growth at once, so I think what I will do is send him a digital recorder, a list of questions, and pre-paid shipping box so that he can send me a oral history of his life. His hopes, dreams, disappointments, and anything else that comes to his mind.

Humility is defined as a modest or low view of one's own importance. I needed to be humbled this past week. I needed to be reminded that God is far more important than anything else, and the He has chosen me.

I am humbled. I love you Dad