Many people have asked me to post my tribute to my dad that I shared during his celebration of life…here you go! 🙂

A Tribute to My Dad…

May 7, 2018

It’s hard to know where to start when talking about the kind of my man my dad was…How do you sum up a person’s life and all those they touched in a few mere words? The best I can do is to share a few stories of my father that give you a glimpse into his life and our relationship.

So many memories and stories come to mind when I think of my dad and his legacy…and I realized that through each of these experiences, my dad taught me important life lessons that I wasn’t really aware of at the time.

When I think of my childhood with my dad, I think of family camping trips with Indian Princesses, trips to North Carolina each fall, summer vacations to the beach when I was little, and then trips out west visiting the national parks when I was older – with lots and lots of hiking. My dad was a great cook and baker – he loved trying out new recipes and making cookies and cakes for special occasions, and even just on the weekends when we were craving a sweet.  He was a handyman extraordinaire – so could often be found tinkering in his shop or with his toolbox tackling a household project.

And, I have many childhood memories of my dad with his cars. I’m sure many of you know about my dad’s eternal love for all things “automotive.”  He loved to name the various cars he had through the years too – and I’m not talking about fancy cars.  He liked them old and with lots of mechanical challenges – the more, the better.

When I was in elementary school, he had a truck he called “Old Blue” – it was both old and blue. My dad loved that truck for hauling stuff around and, of course, the many runs he made to Home Depot on the weekends.  I forget exactly how old I was, but there was a time that Old Blue just stopped running one evening.  He had pulled it over on Narcoossee Road – a few miles from our house – and was trying to figure out how to get it working again.  For some reason the car wouldn’t drive forward, but it would drive in reverse.

Now, most people would just call AAA or a tow truck at this point – but not my dad. He decided the best solution to this quandry was for us to drive home – in reverse.  I thought this sounded a little crazy, even at my young age, but I was excited about my job as spotter.  My dad told me I was to look for cars behind us – which was really from the front of the truck – so we could pull over and let them pass us when needed.  This is way before Narcoossee Road was the four-lane highway it is today.  There was less traffic – but it also meant no street lights, and it was getting dark quick that night.  I spotted for my dad as best I could, watching for headlights coming up from behind us, as he navigated using the rearview mirror.  I can vividly remember the two of us sitting side-by-side in Old Blue, driving home in reverse down Narcoossee Road.  I remember him being very proud of me and of himself for making the trip back that night.

In this case, my dad showed me that sometimes you have to move backwards for a bit to get to where you’re going – it’s ok and it’s all part of the journey of life. And always make sure you have a good spotter for the ride!

Moving into my teenage years, my dad was very involved with my school and extracurricular activities. He loved that I played on the Oak Ridge High School tennis team, and I used to practice with him on the weekends.  He rarely missed a game, and he was always positive about my performance on the court – even when I lost.

Even though we lived “out in the country,” our home was a gathering spot for friends throughout my high school and college years.Many a weekend was spent out on the lake, my dad driving us around on the boat and taking us tubing or knee-boarding. We hosted lots of gatherings – my dad grilling hamburgers, chicken, and salmon.  He was a grillmaster, and he reveled in creating new BBQ sauces and rubs.

When I went to college, it was a big transition for all of us. Since I was at UF in Gainesville, it wasn’t as easy to catch my parents up on all the small details of my life as it was when we lived in the same house.  My mom and I talked often on the phone – but it was not as natural for my dad to call me on his own.  He would ask my mom for updates on how I was doing, and one day she just said, “John, you need to call Erin and talk to her yourself if you want to know what’s going on!”  I guess the idea had never occurred to him.

Cell phones were just becoming all the rage in the late 90s and my dad got one. I only had a landline phone in my dorm room, but soon enough the calls from my dad started coming.  I can’t tell you how many times I’d come home from class and see the red light flashing on my answering machine.  I’d play the message from my dad and they often went something like this…

”Hey Erin, It’s your Dad. I’m just calling to say hi!  The weather here today is 85 and I think there’s a slight chance of rain later this evening, but I’m not sure.”  There was always a full weather report in his messages.  He’d go on to give me a full account of his day so far – detail by detail.  This would go on for a few minutes – brevity was not always his strong suit – and then he’d finally sign off with a “Love, Dad.”  Love, Dad – like how you’d sign a letter.  It always cracked me up – but it was his signature sign-off and I loved it.

Looking back, this was another important lesson. Sometimes, when things change, you’ve got to change too.  Mix it up – learn how to communicate in a different way.  Those calls and those messages changed my relationship with my dad – it created a more direct connection between us.  It reminded me how much he cared and we grew closer than ever before.

After college, I lived at home for a year, then moved to Atlanta, then to Boston – and then several times around the city of Boston with my sister. Each time, “Heffy’s moving crew” – consisting of my dad, mom and sis – were there to help. My dad was the master packer. Whether it was a car trunk or a U-Haul, he approached parking like a game of Tetris – and trust me when I say this, he always won the game!

There weren’t many challenges my dad backed away from – even if it wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse. One of those things was dancing.  By many accounts, my dad wasn’t the best dancer – but that sure didn’t stop him from trying.  He may have been offbeat, but he would point those fingers and shake those legs and hips and try his best – and he wouldn’t care who was watching.

So when I asked him to do a special father-daughter dance with me at my wedding, I knew he would be “all in.” We started with a traditional slow song, but then soon broke out into some fancy dance moves – the twist, spins and twirls, ending with the YMCA.  We had practiced a few days before and my dad kept missing a few moves here and there – but guess who pulled it off with impeccable form the day of my wedding?  I never doubted he would – he was just like that.

This taught me that even if something doesn’t come natural, try anyway. Have the confidence in yourself to give it a go.  You never know – you might just be a good dancer after all!

Fast forward a few years later and I was pregnant with my first child – Elizabeth Leigh. It was February 8, 2013, and my parents came over that day to spend the weekend with JR and me.  We were going to tackle a few final preparations for Elizabeth’s arrival.  We had dinner plans that night with some friends. I started going into labor before we even got to the restaurant, but I was pretty much in denial since my due date was two weeks away.  As soon as the dinner orders were taken, it was clear that Elizabeth was coming that night. My mom, JR and I took off for the hospital.  We left my dad to finish dinner with our friends because, clearly, I would be in labor for several more hours, right?

Well, that didn’t exactly happen – I got to the hospital and an hour later it was time to deliver the baby. I had planned to have JR and my mom in the delivery room, but what I didn’t plan is that my dad would be there too.

It was “go” time – the doctor was in place and I was ready to push. The room was a bit chaotic.  Everything had happened so quickly, I didn’t have time for any pain meds or an epidural, and there were nurses all around to assist.  All of a sudden, my dad walked in with his large camera and flash in hand. We have no idea how he got back to the delivery room, but the doctor looked at me and said, “Do you know this man?” Through clenched teeth I said, “Yes, that’s my dad!”  “Do you want him in here?” she asked.  “Yes!” I said without hesitation.

Although it hadn’t been my vision, having my dad there to witness – and document with his camera – one of the most special memories of my life – the birth of my first child – was so perfect and so right. I can’t imagine this story happening any other way now.

This was the most important lesson my father taught me – life is about showing up – being there for those you love in the most important moments of their life…even if they don’t realize they need you there at the time.

That pretty much sums up my dad – he was THERE…for all of us, all the time. He may have been there for you too.  Although he wasn’t always effusive in his words, he showed his love through his actions – through his acts of service for others.

He was a good man – the very best man I’ve ever known. He taught me these lessons I’ve shared with you today – and many, many more.  My hope is that we can all learn from my father…remember:

• Sometimes you have to go backwards in order to move forward;
• Find the best way to connect to those you love and then do it;
• Have confidence in yourself and don’t be afraid to try something new;
• And most importantly, always be there for those you love – and even better if you’re there with your camera in hand!

This is my father’s legacy.