The Truman Blog

 I thought of you again today. You always were a "tinkerer", completing small projects around the house as I grew up. Unfortunately, I was never curious enough to ask questions nor really wanted to learn how to do the jobs you always could master right before my eyes. I was just the extra pair of hands and some extra muscle. I remember that fence we built together once. You showed me how to plan out every detail from A-Z. Digging the holes, setting the posts, pouring the cement, leveling the bracing, and finally hammering on the fence pickets. Well, lately, our fence has needed pickets replaced badly due to weather damage and...well, dogs, and it is up to me to fix it. Admittedly, with some help from an expert on YouTube, I have started to "find my rhythm" and have replaced numerous fence pickets around our house. Even though it feels good to work with my hands and make necessary repairs, as I sit back and "admire my work", it will never be truly satisfyin...

  Sorry, it has been a while since I wrote about you, Daddy. Something hit me just now that made me think of you and want to save my thoughts. Another T.V. show that you enjoyed watching as I was growing up was The Wonder Years. Today, I stumbled across a clip from that show that resembled how I felt and will always feel about you. Kevin is frustrated about a losing basketball game that Mr. Arnold attended at Kevin's "behest". Kevin makes the comment out of frustration, "I'm sorry we can't all be like you!" Mr. Arnold sips his coffee, somewhat like a reprieve from paying the bills and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and laughs to himself. Mr. Arnold looks into his son's eyes and says, "You are a hard man to please." Even attempting to fill your shoes was such a non-attainable task in my heart, but for the times I did not thank you for the weight you carried for the sake of our family, I am sorry for this. Watching this sc...

 It's just one of those evenings, Daddy. Sometimes, the void left by your trading in ashes for beauty creeps in. All it can take is a scene from a T.V. show. You loved the Andy Griffith Show. I grew to love it with you through the years.  There is that one scene in the first technicolor episode where Opie intentionally loses his job so that the other boy can have it in order to pay bills while his father recovers from illness. Andy asks Opie to forgive him for rushing to judgment and puts his arm around him. "When I was bragging about you earlier...I told them how proud I was to have a little boy like you. But, that's not quite true. You're a man." I know, Daddy, that you would never want to trade the splendor of being in the presence of our King and our Savior. I long for the day we are reunited in his presence. All I hope is that you remember me. All I ever hoped for was to hear that you were proud of me. And that as a man...it's my turn to do as much good a...

There are just some mornings where the memories of us together rush over me, Daddy. Today is one of them. It sometimes just hurts to breathe through the tears, and that of course causes our sweet fur babies to come over to me on the couch and shower their Daddy with kisses, wishing they could soothe my hurting heart. Some of my favorite memories with you were simply riding the car with you and listening to the radio. I remember many times being picked up from kindergarten in that old Dodge Dakota I loved so much. On occasion, you would stop at the gas station and songs like "Forever and Ever, Amen" by Randy Travis would be playing or "Don't Close Your Eyes" by Keith Whitley. Another favorite memory would be during the summer when you would get home from work I would jump in the bed of that truck. You would hit the brake, open the back window, and smile. "Hi, man! You ready?" would always be your response. It was a short trip from the gate into the gara...

  Today was so hard, Daddy.  You once spared me extra pain by sending our sweet lab, Patty, into her Eternal rest. You buried her next to the house so that all I would have to do was grieve. Our sweet little boxer, Marcie, has had a rough year. Since you went to be with Jesus, her back legs started to not work the way they used to. She would try to walk and just stumble. We tried keeping her in her crate for a month with medication and rest. No change. The vet gave us the unfortunate diagnosis: disc deterioration in her back. It was irreversible. Apparently, it is common in some breeds. A year passed and she went from slightly annoyed with her back end not working properly...to not being able to walk. I would have to carry her everywhere...Outside to potty, bring her her food bowl and water, and just watch her become more and more miserable.  It was time to end her misery. We did not want to wait UNTIL she was in pain. We wanted for her to have dignity and be as comfortab...

This year's Christmas was an enjoyable one...but I still missed you, Daddy. This was the first year without you by the tree, in the car looking at Christmas lights in town, at the table for lunch or dinner...and I missed you. Watching Christmas movies just are not the same without you to make comments about and laugh at. Opening presents and not seeing your name on any of them was hard. Even though Mom was here, and she made it to and from the airport safely home...I still missed you. So many times you made that trip to the airport for me, and the honor is now mine to see to that Mom is safe, protected, and accommodated...and I hope I have made you proud of me. Mom has noticed many of your attributes in me. My ears remind her of you. My educated mind reminds her of your practical ways.  Yes, in small ways, you were here. You thrive in our hearts and our memories. And yes, as the years go by, it will get easier to process. ...I just wanted you to know I missed you this year, Daddy....