A Life Worth Living

The last few days have been some of the most trying of my life.  In the interest of trying to cope with our loss, I'm going to try to get out my thoughts without giving too many details in order to keep the privacy of my family. 
My dad was an amazing person.  He accomplished more in his 58 years of life than most people are able to in a lifetime.  He worked his way from high school history teaching and football coaching through the ranks of college teams and into the pros.  I always admired his ability to dedicate himself to his career and his dreams and to push through tough times to accomplish everything he wanted to.  It wasn't always easy and we all sacrificed along the way but what I will always remember and appreciate most about my dad is the fact that he never lost sense of who he was along his journey. 

Probably more well-known for his tough exterior than his sensitive heart, I was one of the few lucky ones that was able to know the true heart of my dad.  The picture that most get to see is one of his colorful language and gruff coaching style while on the football field or the temper that earned him the loving nick-name of "killer mike" amongst a small group of us kids.  But I knew the real Mike.  I knew the man that would do anything to attend every single football game that my brother played.  I knew the man that would pass up lucrative jobs to allow me to finish high school in one place.  I knew the man who never lost track of or was ashamed of his faith in God and I knew the man that was humble and loyal-sometimes to a fault.  I knew the man that was never too busy to help someone in need, never too busy to tell us how proud we made him or how much he loved us.  He loved country music, golfing, football, going to movies, and his family.  He was the greatest man I have ever known and I will forever be greatful for all of the memories and love that we were able to share over the last 29 years. 

On Friday, we lost him.  After being diagnosed with a rare form of cancer on the day before Thanksgiving last year, we have lived with and fought his disease alongside him for almost 10 months.  We were told that only 2% of patients with this disease will live longer than 4 months so, in some ways, we consider the extra 6 months that we were able to spend with him a blessing.  He fought harder than anyone has ever fought and we can honestly say that, at the end of the day, we tried absolutely EVERYTHING we could to help him.  We had hoped that he would make it to his 59th birthday- but the Lord took him 13 days too early.  We just ran out of time.  Maybe, someday, I'll start blogging about the things we tried to help him- the changes in diet, the things we learned about the causes of his disease, and the amazing stories and people that have touched our lives along the way.  I'm sure that the knowledge we have gained through this experience can, and will, help someone or someone they love.  But that'll be for another time...

For now we are focusing on the good times.  The memories.  The healing.  Focusing on planning a funeral to celebrate the man that has touched so many lives.  The outpouring of support for my family has been absolutely amazing.  Friends from all phases of his life, players from as far back as his high school days, family members that we only get to catch up with once every year, and fans from all aspects of his career have come out of the woodwork to support us and cover us in love and prayer.  We have had meals, cards, flowers, edible arrangements, planning help, donations, and more texts, phone calls, emails, and Facebook messages than I could possibly respond to in a lifetime.  I feel so blessed to have been a part of such a wonderful support system and group of faith-based people that can help us remember my father for the strong man he was- not the cancer patient he has been this past year. 

I hope it's true that time heals all wounds.  It's also comforting to think that he's looking over us and walking along side us as we continue living our lives.  Knowing that he's no longer in pain gives me peace and will help us get through this tough time.  In the meantime, I will continue looking at the pictures and accepting the hugs, phone calls, and texts and knowing that I can see my father every time I look at myself in the mirror.

RIP Dad, I'll miss you, I love you, and I'll see you soon...

10-13-52 to 9-30-11

With Kenny Chesney- July 2011