Hook Em, Bobby!

This is one of my dad's dearest friends, Bobby, wearing one of my dads favorite shirts. (Dad wore that shirt waaaaay too much.) 

It is hard for me to find the words to adequately express how such a simple thing means to me, just a happy man in a Hawaiian shirt.

There are days that I feel defeated, as if no matter how hard I may try, our family and this life is just not as fun as it would have been if Dad were here. I know that may sound dramatic, or overly pessimistic, but it is at times how I feel. Before Dads death, our family still had arguments and dealt with hard things, but light hearted happiness came easier than it does now. It’s as if, years later, the air is still thick with missing him. We carry on, but we carry a heavy weight of missing him, too.  

A funny grandfather was playing with his three year old grandson at our neighborhood pool recently, and he quickly included Thomas in their water gun game. Thomas thought the man was so.much.fun. I longed for my dad so much in that moment. My stomach hurts just thinking back to it. I had tears at the pool that I couldn’t keep back, though thankfully got them under control in a flash. 

I’ve said it before: I know we have so much for which to be thankful. We are blessed beyond measure that Dad was so worthy of being dearly missed. I know some parents go quietly into the night. And even though it seems short, we are blessed with the years we had. I think of John and William, or friends’ who’s spouses didn’t meet their parents who are now gone, and I know I have no room to complain or feel entitled to more time. I watched a news story recently about a young man who’s dad died serving in our military when the boy was not yet born. Loss such as that I truly cannot fathom. 

And, I know some parents leave behind grown children who are not nearly as cared for or loved on as Gentry and I have been. Our community of friends and family is really something else. 

After Jay Chenoweth passed away, my dad talked about jaybird a lot. He told me how much he missed calling him with work questions, how often he thought of him. He told us that he was going to say his name any chance he had, especially around Jay’s boys. I remember him saying, “I don’t care if it makes some people uncomfortable, we are going to talk about Jay. I am going to say his name whenever I think of him.” 

They say that one of the sweetest sounds to someone is the sound of their own name. I think for someone grieving, even sweeter than their own name is the name of the one they’ve lost. I am immensely grateful for my dads friends who still talk about him, mention him without fear of it being awkward. You know what’s awkward? Acting like we’ve all forgotten who Dad was, or as if he’s away on business. 

My dad’s friends have been shoulder to shoulder with us in our grief. 

I don’t know that I need to explain this photo much, Bobby texting it to us says it all. Thank you for loving us so well, and missing Dad with us, Martins! 

A few people have asked my mom how to support people who are up to their chin in grief, treading just enough to breathe but not able to do much else. She says often, “just show up.” You don’t have to know the right things to say, you don’t have to bring a casserole if cooking is not your thing - just show up. 

Real life people like Bobby (and Lynne, and others) remind me that faith in God is much more than your church attendance chart or a list of good deeds. It makes me sad how many people think their faith is too small or that they have too many doubts. I spent a lot of time thinking my faith was pretty inadequate or insincere, and then all hell broke lose, and God has never felt more real or near or evident, even as I shook my fists at him. 

If you think you don’t know God, if you think you are of little faith- think of times when you have been inexplicably loved. 

You don’t have to have all the answers or understand every single thing- I love how God shows up through other real-life, in the flesh, people. The hands and feet of Christ. 

Don’t let a lack of theology make you feel inadequate. Let good friends in Hawaiian shirts remind you that the Lord is never far. But you may have to go halfway. You may have to look for Him. 

Some men will tell you that the sky sets burnt orange because Austin is, in fact, God’s country. I think that is still up for debate, but either way... Hook em, Bobby!