When I was four years old he gave me a beer filled RC Cola can, which taught me to pay attention.
When I was ten he chaperoned my 6th grade class beach trip, much to my chagrin, until I noticed that all of my friends loved him, which taught me not to be so self-centered.
When I was 25 he donned a tuxedo, battled his nerves and swept me across the dance floor at my wedding reception to the warm voice of Randy Travis singing “Forever and Ever Amen,” teaching me to treasure the moment.
When I was 27 he arrived after hopping on a plane at a moment’s notice to meet my daughter, who was already gone. He quietly stayed, held me up, soaked her in as he knelt beside her casket and was the last one to see her before she was buried.
He has taught me to be practical, to accept, to work hard, to love without losing yourself. And of course, he has bestowed upon me his wicked sense of humor, which I’d be lost without.
Thank you, Dad. I love you for always.
Carrie Joy(ful) 