It was 2003, and we spent our spring break in Ohio. The night before we were supposed to drive home to Texas, the hospital called telling my family that my dad had taken a turn for the worse, and we should get to the hospital as quickly as possible. His breathing was labored, and he was in and out of consciousness. We sang over his bed. We prayed over him. We told him it was ok to let go. We cried. We sang. We prayed. And we cried some more. Miraculously, and as often happens when death's door is knocking, my dad started to do better. We weren't sure if we should drive home or not, but the kids had school on Monday, and it's a long drive from Ohio to Texas. We also knew that the cycle of him getting better, worse, better, worse, etc. could go on for quite a while. We decided we should just start the trip home. By the time we hit Tennessee, I had received the call that my dad had passed away. All this took place nine years ago today, on St. Patrick's Day.
This blog is typically all about GodandMe2theMax, but the truth is that I wouldn't be where I am today in my relationship with the Lord without my dad's influence in my life. So it's only fitting today on St. Patrick's Day that I dedicate my blog to "DadAndMe2theMax."
What I learned from my dad...
1. My dad taught me tenderness when it comes to spiritual things. I can't ever remember my dad sharing his testimony of how he gave his life to Christ without breaking down in tears. I remember when I was younger, I used to watch him cry like a baby when sharing about Christ. He got saved before I was even born, but he never "got over" that moment when God penetrated his life. I'm thankful for a dad that wasn't afraid to show emotion for the things that mattered. He wasn't perfect, but he was a great example to me of passion and love for the Lord.
2. My dad taught me how to have good, clean fun. He was the funniest man I've ever known. Anyone who knew him would agree, too. At his funeral, I was able to share some of my favorite humorous stories of growing up as his daughter. I still marvel at how I managed to do this without breaking down, but somehow God gave me the strength!
There was the story of dad hiding the Pepsi bottles in the back of the toilet.
There was the story of him acting like he tripped down the stairs of the church, only to have the pastor's wife ask him if he was ok. His response, with full blown emotion, "I think I have an infected ovary."
There was the story of him being asked to close in prayer at church. He leaned forward against the pew, only to set off the musical tie he was wearing.
There was the story of the somber holiday service where the entire church circled around holding hands to sing. It was a candlelight service, if I remember correctly, and it was dark, except for my dad's flashing bow-tie.
There were the countless stories of my dad's hand-written letters to me at college. They were always so funny that I actually had friends who would check mail with me, just in case I had a letter from my dad. They loved reading with me, not to mention seeing the terrible spelling and sometimes poor grammar combinations he created.
And then there was the story of him proudly wearing his belt buckle, "World's Greatest Lover."
These are all fragmented stories with much more laughter behind them, but that was just how my dad rolled. He gave you enough to laugh hard, but not too much that he was annoying.
One of my best character qualities (at least what I like most about myself!) is my quick wit, a direct link to my dad's genes, for sure. He always had a quick and funny comment for anything. There were countless times where he tested the waitress at a restaurant. The conversation would go something like this...
"Hi! My name is Laverne. How are you today?"
Dad's response: "I'm fat."
"Great! Do you know what you want to drink today?"
Dad's response, "Yeah, I thought you'd like that one."
"Just water then?"...
As I watch my kids grow up, I'm thankful they both got that same McNabb wit, too. Every time they come up with "a good one" I know my dad is looking down from heaven with a big smile saying "That's MY granddaughter!" or "That's MY grandson!" If you're my friend on facebook, I'm sure you've seen many of these repeated examples of how my kids model their Pop-Pop. And now you know just where they got it!
3. My dad taught me how to play ball, but more importantly, he modeled some pretty important parenting skills, too. We spent endless summer afternoons and evenings pitching to each other, fielding, and sweating in the Ohio humidity. He was my biggest fan. I played on a summer league all during high school, and he never missed a game. Never. He told me what I did wrong and didn't sugarcoat it. I can remember him repeatedly saying "You're dropping your shoulder when you're at bat. You have to point your elbow more." Then he would work with me in practice on what I was struggling with. Not only did he never miss a game during summer softball season, but I don't think he ever missed a single game when I played volleyball either. When I first started, I was terrible. My skills were far behind others on my team. I warmed the bench a lot, but dad didn't care. I was his pride and joy, and I knew he wanted nothing more than to be there in the stands to support me.
My three brothers may disagree, but I know I was my dad's favorite child. How could I not be after three boys and then finally a baby girl? :) At least that's how I will choose to remember!
The truth is, I could go on and on. Memories are the most cherished thing I have. And if you don't take time to remember, you put yourself at risk to forget. How I wish my kids could have known my dad. Jacob doesn't remember him at all. Amber remembers him only after he was already sick.
But I remember. Perhaps one of the most lasting memories I have is repeatedly getting up for school at five AM, only to find my dad sitting at the dining room table reading his Bible. I had no idea back then what a precious memory that would become. He set the example for me. When my kids walk in on me having my quiet time, I always think of the same scenario when I was younger. I hope one day they will have fond memories of interruption as well.
So today, it's all about Richard Neal McNabb. It's about remembering a life of love and laughter. I will choose not to be depressed. Sure, I may shed a tear here or there, but I will not focus on the sadness of not having him around any longer. Instead, I will focus on what he taught me. He was a pretty brilliant guy for someone with only a Jr. High education!
I will choose to be the kind of parent that he modeled for me. I will love my children unconditionally. I will support them. I will teach them about spiritual things. And I will create moments for them to have lasting memories, even after I'm gone. And by God's grace, they too will go 2theMax with God because of the legacy I've invested in them. And I am who I am today in part because of DadAndMe2theMax.
Richard Neal McNabb
November 21, 1935 - March 17, 2003
Dad, with his famous flashing bow-tie.
---Beth Banfill
www.GodandMe2theMax.com