The saddest thing I ever had to write...and read.

My Dad – Remembering Him

 In all of the TV shows and movies you see that contain a funeral the eulogies by the family sound remarkably the same. I hoped that I might swerve off the beaten path and do something my way, but it feels like I may just fall into that statistic.

In thinking of this moment I tried numerous ways to say what I wanted and yet never quite made it through everything.

When I finally got it all down I saw that I had gone past the 90 second rule. Well, get comfortable cause here we go!

What do I say? Dad was Dad. He was the one who swatted me bare-bottomed whenever I misbehaved which means quite a bit of the time.

He was the one who told us that Mr. I Can’t never could do anything. Not even breathe. But Mr. I’ll Try always accomplished things.

Dad taught us how to fish and gut and clean what we caught and he would SEEM to love our disgust at all those insides, but then he would turn up his nose and tell us how disgusting Liver & Onions were to eat!

Dad would sing along with music from Ray Stevens, Les Miserables, Phantom of the Opera, and Joseph & His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat and then turn to us and say, “I’ve got the same vocal range as…” INSERT NAME OF SINGER. Funny thing is that unless it was a female singer, a lot of times, he was right!

Dad would be the one to tell us that we were to treat people as we would want to be treated, as it says in the Bible, and then we would watch him talking to people after church and realize that he actually did what he taught.

Looking back I remember one summer day that the family was at Camp Cazadero for some ceremony or something and it was time to head home.

Mom, Teddy, and I had come separately from Dad and so I thought I was heading home with them when Dad stepped up and told Mom that I was going home with him and that we will be late in getting back.

Of course my first extinct is to try to recall all of the misdeeds I had performed that day and whether or not his network of spies had seen any of them.

But it turns out I needn’t have worried.

As soon as we both got in the car he turned to me and said, “You’re not in trouble. I just have a few things I think you need to know.”

Whew!

So we drove, for quite a while, until we came to the coastline. There Dad found a turnoff that was on a cliff overlooking the ocean. And there we sat for over an hour as Dad tried to warn me about all that was going to happen to me as I entered junior high and I went through puberty.

Embarrassing…yes, but very truthful and promised myself that I would try to remember at least some of what he was telling me.

But he spoke in a way that sure enough, throughout the next few years, I would remember something else he said in time to make sure I didn’t make too much of a fool of myself.

After the talk though he drove me to Cattlemen’s Restaurant and bought me a steak and lobster dinner. Which surprised me because lobster was (and still is) a big luxury that we RARELY got.

But Dad told me that since I was soon going to be a man that I should not only eat like one but also know what some of the finer things in life were…to eat.

Dad was the one who encouraged my sister Becky into going back to school and when she got cold feet, he wouldn’t relent in his love and encouragement. So she went back and is still going strong with no regrets at University of Louisiana Monroe.

When my sister Kristin took over the music leadership at church Dad supported her and encouraged her even through the tough times. All the way up to and beyond the moment she graduated from Golden Gate Baptist Theological Seminary!

Even my brother passes on things we learned as a child to his children. We were taught that if someone in the family said, “Honor Bright” then that person was not lying. That was unbreakable! Today Teddy and Brook have taught their children the same. RAINBOW BRIGHT! Dad has been passed to another generation.

My Dad had a strength to him that affected everything he did, but when he seemed to be at his lowest he would always power through it and when he made it through he would always give praise to God.

That was Dad.

When cars were wrecked, he would thank God no one was hurt.

When we were in a car accident he would praise God that we didn’t die.

When people would turn on him, or try to take what was his, he would be thankful that God taught him who or what to watch out for next time.

When Dad would be driving long distances to help dying churches turn around he said he and God would talk quite a bit.

It appeared to others that Dad just knew things without having to be told.

And I have to say that I believe one of those moments occurred right in front of me at the hospital 4 weeks ago. Just after the surgeon came in to tell us just how dire things were with Dad and that there was a 50/50 chance of not making it out alive, Mom reached for Dad’s hand.

Dad said, “I’m sorry.” And Mom would say, “just make it through this. I can’t do this without you.” But as she kissed his hand, Dad said once again, “I’m sorry.”

Looking back at that moment…I truly believe Dad knew. He knew he probably wasn’t going to make it.

In a letter to Ms. Pat Henderson who was my Sunday School teacher at Gatetree Chapel, one of the sentences said, "I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face."

Dad doesn’t hurt anymore. He had touched the face of God and is now getting to meet all those people whose hearts he has touched in his life.

I said it before and I’ll say it again, this one man, not in the media spotlight, touched the lives of so many that he literally had people around the world praying for him. But most importantly they also prayed for God’s Will to be done.

It was. God’s Will was to heal Dad, but this time for all Eternity.

One man affected people around the world all from a hospital bed.

Dad, I believe whole heartedly that you truly deserve and have received the greatest praise Jesus can bestow on us.

“Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”

Goodbye Dad, and don’t worry. WE are your legacy and we will not let this torch die.