Four years ago today, my Dad and “partner”, Ron Courtney, went home to be with the Lord. I remember thinking after his death that the purpose for which he had lived his life was now a reality. It was no longer something he lived for, but something he had lived for. I remember seeing his Bible and glasses just where he left them. He would no longer need those items, for now he was with the Author and his vision is perfect. His walking shoes were in their place beside my Mom’s. He was now walking with the Savior, he would no longer need to walk for exercise. His health is now perfect. His workbench – complete with hammer, screwdrivers, sundry items and, I kid you not, a gillion nails and screws was silent.

I sat down and cried at his workbench that first day home. I cried because of all the time he’d spent there making (or repairing) things for me, such as my bike. I cried because I missed seeing him there, glasses sliding down his sweaty face, and an expression of one who was deep in thought as he fiddled with something that needed fixing. He was such a hard worker.

My Dad was so tender hearted, so kind and generous. He hated being alone. And at his workbench that day, I hated being alone. While sitting there, I wished I could thank him once more for fixing “Lightning”, my bike. I wished I could thank him for his love and most of all, the example of what I should look for in a husband. Terry is so much like him. I often think of Dad when I see him fathering our girls. I have had, and still have, some great men in my life.
But Dad came first. And I will always miss him, but, praise the Lord, because of Calvary, we can be together again someday.

Thank you Dad. A million times over, thank you. I wish I had been a better daughter to you and Mom, but as long as I’m living I will do my best to rise to your level of Christianity. I will try to make up for all the wrong I did as a youngster. I will strive to serve instead of be served, to give instead of take, to love whether I’m loved in return or not. I know that if I can be like you, I’ll be like Jesus. I saw His reflection in your lives every day I awoke in the Courtney home.
I miss you, and I love you.
Thank you so much for loving me, just the way I was.