Shortly before he died, my Father shared with me that he couldn’t believe how fast it all went by. And in his final instructions, he reiterated the same things he told me virtually every time he ever saw me. Holding my hand, he looked deep into my eyes and told me to live each day like it was my last, leave nothing to chance, and do the things that I was born to do.
I’m genuinely grateful for these words; and if you want the truth, I’ve always been grateful for his advice–although I probably never told him so.
And, because of his constant encouragement, the fact of the matter is I’ve sincerely tried to make hay while the sun’s been shining. Yet even with his guidance, I’ve made a ton of mistakes–way more than my fair share–but along the way I’ve experienced a lot of good things in life; things my Dad would have been proud of.
I’ve hugged the teachers who taught me how to read and write. I’ve driven cross country with my best friend and sat on the hood of a car on the backroads with my high school girlfriend. I’ve been at death’s door and, by amazing grace, fought my way back. I’ve hiked the most beautiful country on God’s green earth and had the greatest friends a guy could ever ask for.
I’ve cried tears of joy and drove a killer Mustang. I’ve read ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’ more than 20 times and had eggs over easy at the local diner. I’ve made it a point to say ‘thank you’ and ‘please.’ I’ve slept in my truck under the stars and I’ve felt the breath of wild horses on my skin. And I held my Mother’s hand at my Father’s funeral.
Looking back, I know I won the lottery when it comes to my parents. And no matter what happens to me from this day forward, Pops, I want you to know that when my time comes, I am good to go.
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