reflection.

When I decide to blog, I typically have an outline in my mind as to what I want to say. Today, I have a lot of scattered thoughts. But also, today isn't like most days.

This day marks two years since we lost my dad. And instead of simply saying, "I'm doing okay today," I decided to write about it. For some of you, you may know a lot about the memories and life lessons I cherish because of this man and this could be repetitive. For others, you may have no idea. And even for me, I don't know completely what I'm going to write. But I feel strongly about sharing what's on my heart today. 

Because it is April 10th, I'm going to share with you 10 things on my heart, whether put there by God to share with you or simply a memory overwhelmingly flooding my mind. 

I still don't know what I'm specifically going to write, so here goes nothing:

1. Allow plenty of time for laughter. 

I can't tell you the countless times my dad would make me laugh until my cheeks hurt. And I also can't tell you how many times that happened when I was in a "crabby Madi" mood. One time I remember driving and he was in the passenger seat and we went by a speed zone and I thought it took your picture. So, like any giddy, teenage girl would do, I stuck my tongue as we drove by. He laughed at me for a couple of seconds until informing me that it doesn't take your picture and then mocking me of the ridiculous face I had made. It's one of my fondest memories. 

2. Enjoy the silence nature has to offer.

My dad LOVED hunting. I use to go hunting with my dad. I think a lot of people would laugh if they knew that. I seem like one of the last people to go sit for hours in silence and wait to potentially kill an animal. Let's be honest, I would have went even if I had known beforehand we weren't going to see any deer. We would usually take the trailer with the four-wheelers on it, unload everything, and drive really fast to our destination (usually beating the sunrise). We would sit in (almost) silence and grow excited even at the smallest of sounds we heard in the woods, usually a squirrel. Darn squirrels. One time, we were sitting in a tent and my dad was growing anxious awaiting the sight of a deer. And there she was. He whispered, "Get ready." I looked at him in awe. "You want me to try?" So I slowly pulled up the gun, shaking uncontrollably, and I fired. I missed, he laughed. We laughed (see number 1). And we sat in silence a little while longer. 

3. Talk about your fears.

I lost count of the number of times my dad had to go to the hospital. But one time, it was just us two in one of those boxed rooms, those white walls torturous in their stillness in the midst of change. He asked me if I was scared. I answered and asked him the same question. I weeped, he weeped. We held each other's hands, in no hurry to heal the pain we were feeling. 

4. Allow time for adventures.

When my dad knew his time was near, he asked each of us to choose one place to go on vacation and that's where we would go. I choose New York, Austin chose Washington D.C., and my mom chose a Caribbean cruise. Then, as a family we went on a 12-day Mediterranean cruise, where we saw Greece, Italy and Israel. I still find it hard to mention this trip because of the pure joy it brings. So I'll keep that one to myself. 

5. Offer people your sincerity.

Even if it's a short 5-minute conversation, talk! My dad would always engage in a conversation with someone. He was once volunteering at a toy drive and this lady came in desperately wanting a bike for her son. Unfortunately, the bikes were all taken by the time this lady had arrived. My dad pulled out some money and told her to buy her son a bike. Could this lady have used this money on something else? Probably. The lady in charge of the toy drive came running over and said, "Victor, you can't do that." "I just did." Break the rules sometimes. It's priceless.

6. Find ways to show your love.

I always felt loved by my dad when he made me biscuits and his famous homemade gravy. Yes, food made me feel loved. It wasn't always him saying "I love you" when I felt his love the most. 

7. Be a learner and a teacher. 

Before every Sunday school class, he would sit in his recliner throughout the week and focus his attention on the lesson for the week. I watched him sit in his comfy clothes, absorbing and studying, to then in a buttoned up shirt on a Sunday morning, transporting those lessons from his mind to a room full of teenagers. It was always a beautiful observation. 

8. Be honest.

I could always approach my dad with a question and knowing I'd receive the truth, even if I didn't want to hear it. I think his honestly shocked some people sometimes, but when from most people I've talked to, it was one of their favorite things about him. 

9. Keep singing.

This is meant to be interpreted figuratively and literally. My entire family has a passion for music. Sometimes, when the emotions were too high too powerful to put in words, we would play a meaningful song. I'm not saying everyone loves music, but if you do, share that with your family. Sing with them. As for figuratively, it reminds me of the song that always brings deep reflection of my dad. In 10,000 Reasons, the lyrics: "Whatever may pass or whatever lies before me, let me be singing when the evening comes." You can still sing through tears, as he did (also a double interpretation there).

10. We will serve the Lord.

My dad's favorite verse: "Choose this day whom you will serve. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. Joshua 24:15" As oddly as it sounds, I am so thankful for the 10 days my dad was in the hospital before he passed. It was only a few days in before he lost communication. But he could still hear. And we would play music and talk about Heaven and he would tap his foot along to the music. He was still serving the Lord and throughout his sickness, he never stopped. 

How lucky I am to have my greatest inspiration on this earth to be my own father. Thank you, God.