Father's Day (2012)

My Dad (Denny) and I (LeAnne) on my wedding day 8 months before his death.

Today is an anniversary of sorts, although not one for celebration.  On February 13, 1988 my Father died suddenly of a massive heart attack.  He was only 40 years old.  We have been told that his heart attack was so huge that even if he had been standing in the middle of the cardiac unit of a  hospital when it happened, they still wouldn't have been able to save him.  We didn't even know he was sick.  One minute he was talking (he was always talking) and eating dinner with us, and the next he was gone.  It was quick, and it was quiet. Life as we knew it would never be quite the same.  Everything changed in an instant.  It was just one moment in time that would change all others.
It's amazing how one life effects another, and another, and another.  Maybe that's why I like that old movie, It's a Wonderful Life, so much.  One man makes a difference in the lives of so many others.  That was definitely true of my Dad.  Our family would certainly never be the same, and I have heard that sentiment echoed time and time again by countless others.

I think this is true no matter how old the person is.  Even Christopher, in just his few short months of life, had made an impression on so many people around him.  Family, friends, doctors, nurses, other patients, even people we didn't know were all effected by the "little baby who couldn't eat."  It was one tiny life effecting so many others.

My Dad and my son have other things in common too like they share a name.  My Dad's name was Denny, and Denny is Christopher's middle name.  We named him in honor of the grandfather he never knew. My Dad died many years before Christopher was even born, yet the name seemed fitting and appropriate.

He lives every moment of life.  This is a picture of Christopher with his cousin, Denise.  Denise is my sister's (Shelli's) daughter, and she was also named in honor of my Dad, Denny.

They also share the fact that they are both the youngest child in their families.  My Dad was the youngest of two.  He has an older sister.  Christopher is the youngest of 3.  He has two older brothers.  Being the baby of the family is such an endearing and special thing to be...just like them!   

Now that Christopher is older, I know that he also shares a special trait with my Dad, friendliness.  My Dad had lots of friends.  He was a very likable guy.  He way easy going and quite "the social butterfly."  That describes Christopher to a tee.  He always has a friend everywhere he goes, and his schedule is always jam packed with plans and activities.  I'm so glad that Christopher is a friendly guy.  I know it has been critical in helping Christopher cope with his medical situation.   God gave him a "cloud of witnesses" who have been there to celebrate with him in happy times, as well as, lift him up when he is down.  God knew just what he needed.

Snowboarding is what he loves best.  He says he would rather snowboard than do anything else.  This is a picture of Christopher with his cousin, Katie.  Katie is my sister's (Shelli's) oldest daughter.  Katie is the one who first introduced Christopher to the sport of snowboarding.  Thank you so much Katie!  You gave Christopher the best kind of gift, one that keeps on giving! 

Cell phones are like a dream come true!

I think Christopher also got the "gift of gab" from my Dad (I did too).  It's really too bad that my Dad died before the invention of the cell phone.  He would have loved them!  I always joke with my Mom that he would have had one on each hip.  He loved to talk on the phone.  In fact the day that he died, I watched the winter Olympics with my Dad on the phone for several hours.  I remember thinking that I really needed to hang up.  I had a lot of things I needed to get done, but I'm glad I kept talking.  There have been many days since that I wish I could call him up.  I wish he could meet my boys.  I wish he could take them out for ice cream, go fishing with them, or be their biggest fan at their basketball games.

A tragically short life is the one thing I hope they never share.  As a mother it just doesn't compute that your child would die before you.  I watched my Grandmother struggle and grieve for year after year over the death of her son.  He was still her baby, even though her baby was 40.  I don't think she ever really recovered.  I can't imagine that I would either.

The one thing I have learned from Christopher and my Dad is to cherish every moment you have been given.  Say, "I love you!"  Say, "Thank you!"  Make time for one another.  After all, there is no guarantee of a tomorrow.

SPECIAL NOTE:  This blog entry is dedicated to the memory of my Dad.  He was the guy everybody liked.  He was the guy you could count on.  He was the guy who always had a cup of coffee and a great story to tell.  He loved and was loved.  I miss you Dad!


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More tomorrow...