Dad

The call came. I'd felt prepared. Every time the phone rang, I expected it. So why is it that when it arrived, it still felt like the bottom dropped out of my world? I thought about waiting a few days before I wrote this so that the words would be more flowery and thought out. I decided, instead, to write it raw.

My father Rex passed away today. That tough old hoss fought against it with every breath and managed to confound us all with his sheer will to live throughout. In the end, his body finally gave out.

I've written a lot about my Dad this past year. In particular, I spoke of the kindness he had shown many times toward friends, neighbors and strangers by dropping off anonymous fresh garden vegetables on porches and patios. I've only scratched the surface of my father's generosity.

My Mom ran the clothing center and my father ran the food pantry at their church for many years. Anyone who's ever known what it's like to lose everything or simply not know where their next meal was coming from, knows that simply walking into that church basement might take all the courage one could muster. To then try to say the words, "I need help" often proves to be just too much to bear. My father wouldn't wait for them to say anything. He would simply place a hand on their shoulder, quite possibly share a tear with them and then wordlessly pack up a heaping box of food items for them and bid them farewell. My parents were masters at knowing how to help those in need. Why? Because they've been there.

Every Christmas, the Men's Fellowship at the church would make and deliver Christmas baskets filled with food to those in need. When I was younger, I accompanied my Dad on a few of those deliveries. One year, it was a brutal winter and we practically had to scale a steep frozen hillside to reach one of the homes. I wiped out more than once and let my overprivileged complaints be heard. My Dad, twice my age, wiped out too and nearly crawled up that hill on his hands and knees. At the top, he said, "No matter how rough you're feeling now, it's nothing compared to what these folks are going through." He was right as rain, of course....one of the many times he's humbled me.

I can only hope to be half the man Rex Haught was. It's hard to imagine the planet without him.

I love you, Dad. Now, you can finally rest easy once and for all. You've earned it.