Memories of My Dad

My dad died two and a half years ago. I wrote a speech for his memorial service which was held at the church where he was on staff in San Antonio, Texas. It was helpful in processing my grief to go through the multiple drafts of the speech and to remember anecdotes that I wanted to include. Since Dad's death was due to a long battle with stage 4 kidney cancer, I had time both to spend with him and savor the final visits as well as to begin writing the speech during his final weeks of life. Had he died suddenly, I don't think I could have been in the right frame of mind nor had the time to put this together. Still, delivering this speech was difficult for me. Though I enjoy public speaking and have done a lot of it in my career as a teacher, it was difficult to retain emotional composure when speaking about these memories. I didn't want to sob uncontrollably during the speech and not be able to get through it, as that wouldn't allow these thoughts to be articulated to the audience. I remember feeling a great peace come over me after I delivered the first paragraph, and then the audience's laughter at various memories (which were intended to be humorous) carried me through the rest of the speech. I am grateful to this day that I made it through those moments. I came across the file I had saved of this speech and wanted to post it on my blog, so that others could still remember my dad, and so that my children could read it.

Here is the speech from January 2007:

MARVIN ALLYN SMITH: MEMORIES OF OUR DAD

"Many of you have memories of Marvin as a friend, coworker, pastor, or missionary. We knew him as a dad, and we want to share with you some of the things we will remember most about him.

Dad’s priority was always his family. He always had time for us and gladly dropped everything when we approached him with a question or needed help. Dad and Mom attended every sporting event and school function we had. In fact, Dad even kept a detailed notebook on all the stats for Melody’s volleyball and basketball games which he would scrutinize for hours. He also memorized the Oklahoma State course catalog while I was in college and mailed me frequent schedule options in order to help me accomplish my goal of graduating early. His guidance and involvement actually enabled me to graduate from college in only three years without a single wasted credit hour! I can remember him working large puzzles for hours with my brother and building a model ship with him – the Cutty Sark. Dad built a basketball court in the backyard of our Colorado home for us to use, and he built my brother a wooden ramp during his skateboarding phase. He took on the task of teaching me to drive the most formidable of all cars: a 1974 Ford Maverick with no power steering and a column shift. He never got frustrated or lost his patience no matter how many times I stalled the car in traffic. We knew he loved us unconditionally, and he was always committed to whatever activity or interest his children had.

Dad always tried to make family time meaningful while we were growing up. We would often request “Dad’s special popcorn” which consisted of a very precise method of popping the corn, melting real butter on the stove in just the right pan, drizzling the butter over the popcorn “just so,” then distributing portions into the triangle shaped pockets inside our paper napkins. Then, we would cuddle together as a family on one sofa to watch a PBS mini series such as “The Flame Trees of Theka” or The Lawrence Welk Show. In addition, Dad finished out the crawl space under our stairs which was attached to my brother’s bedroom in order to create a special secret area where Asher would play Star Wars for hours. Dad even dug holes in our backyard sod to make our own personal putt-putt golf course, and he tried to grade the difficulty of the holes using the “principles of physics” which he often told us about. Often, on Saturday mornings Dad would make his homemade pancakes, cooking them in shapes onto the griddle.

In addition to his involvement with us, Dad taught us his excellent sense of planning and organization. I grew up reading Consumer Reports as my magazine of choice since we always had back issues on our coffee tables. Dad would always research every major purchase, and the Consumer Reports magazines were still next to his recliner in his final weeks of life. I learned to research my own purchases and comparison shop by his example. When Dad was still able to carry on a conversation, my last interaction with him was about how to select a contractor for my new fence, as he gave me advice from his experience. He helped me with my first tax form, my first bank statement, and my first college application. His most amazing organizational feat was how much he could pack into a car for a trip. When it was time to take me to college, Dad managed to fit my entire wardrobe, bedding, and all the items for my dorm room into our small Honda Civic Wagon, and we still had passenger room for a family of five. We never understood how he was able to masterfully arrange the luggage!

Dad always exemplified hard work, perseverance, and self-discipline to us. His brother, my Uncle Glen, used to tell me that when they were in high school Dad insisted on getting up at the crack of dawn every morning to practice the piano for several hours before school. Of course, this woke up the entire family, but Dad was diligent in his practicing. When I was in 9th grade, Dad offered to help me run a paper route to earn my spending money; this taught me the value of earning my own money and to appreciate hard work. Dad got up with me at 5:30 every morning for over a year and helped me roll the papers while it was still dark outside, and then he trudged alongside me through our neighborhood in Colorado Springs. We delivered those papers together in rain and snow and endured being chased by dogs. Dad did it all for no share in my monetary profit, and he often delivered the route alone, so I could spend the night at a friend’s house. Dad always believed you should work hard and finish what you start, and he was always willing to walk alongside us to help us get the task done.

Another thing my father taught us was the love of education. Due to his encouragement, his three children represent three bachelor’s degrees, one master’s degree, and a Ph.D. Dad loved to learn and always impressed upon us that education is a never ending process. When I finally finished my College Algebra course, which was my albatross, I couldn’t wait to resell my textbook. Dad said not to resell it because he wanted to have it to be able to work math problems -- for fun. That was my dad! We were the only family I knew who had a large whiteboard on a wall in our home where Dad would help us work out our homework problems and tutor us if we were having trouble. I spent hours in high school watching him excitedly work algebra and chemistry problems on that whiteboard in our own little “classroom.” He was a gifted teacher; I saw him come to life when he was teaching as he bounced around on the balls of his feet with his hands clasped together, and I loved learning from him.

But most of all, our dad was a man of true faith. I knew that when I woke up, I could always find Dad every morning in his leather chair in his home office, drinking coffee, with his black leather Bible open on his lap. He led by example, and he always put Christ at the center of his life. He surely was a man after God’s own heart. He offered wise, Biblical advice to us, and he was always the first person I called for counsel, even through my adult life.

Dad loved Bill Miller BBQ, In and Out Burger, real maple syrup on ice cream, See’s chocolate candy, the OSU Cowboys, Braums, Collin Street Bakery fruitcake, talking about his Navy days, working math problems, playing the piano, teaching people, and serving God.

Though we will miss Dad every day, we do not grieve as those who have no hope. Our hope is in knowing that Dad had faith in Jesus Christ as his personal savior, and that is what enabled him to be the man that he was. Dad is now enjoying the glory of the presence of the Lord. He is wearing his crown of righteousness, and Dad surely heard the words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

A Sentimental Project

Today I tried using vinyl lettering for the first time. I saw this idea on someone else's blog, and then I found out that my new neighbor sells vinyl lettering as a home business. I was able to see some lettering she had put on her own walls up close, and that was all it took to fall in love with this new craze and try it on my own.

We have the perfect doorway into our greatroom that is almost 12 feet long with ten foot ceilings. It was just crying for some lettering to go above it! After deliberating with Stuart for some time about which Bible verse to use, we finally came up with one that we both liked.

It is Numbers 6:24-26. This was the Old Testament blessing that my father prayed over me and my siblings with his feeble hand on our heads on Christmas Day 2006 as he was dying of cancer. It was one of the last conversations he was able to have before he died on January 11, 2007.

The passage reads:
"May the Lord bless you and protect you. May the Lord smile on you and be gracious to you. May the Lord show you his face and give you his peace."

The lettering rubs on the walls and can be removed without any damage to the paint. I was pleased that it wasn't very hard to apply, and the most challenging part was making sure the lettering was straight, and this wouldn't be as difficult with a shorter project.

It makes me happy to see these words on the wall and remember my father's dying words to me. Until now, it probably would have been too difficult to see them on the wall and be reminded of the fresh pain of his death. But after two years now, I can remember the closeness of those final moments with my father and rejoice in His heavenly existence that is without pain.

The wall was just long enough to hold this entire passage, and it looks like it was meant for this space. I'm so thankful that my dad left me with these words.

I love you, Dad.

No Fear

Fear has held me back from taking many risks in my life. I have probably missed out on many great opportunities that God had for me because I was too scared to walk through His open door. Instead, I planted my feet firmly and convinced myself that I was in the right place, that I was content, and that I was safe.

I remember meeting a young newlywed couple many years back. Stuart and I invited them over for dinner after they had visited our Sunday school class. They informed us that they were moving out of state in a month. They didn't have jobs in Phoenix yet, but they had always wanted to live there. It had always been their favorite place -- their dream. So, they were going. They were just going to quit their jobs, leave their security in Arkansas, pack up their stuff, and move to Arizona. They believed that things would fall into place once they got there. It would be an adventure, they said. At the time, I remember thinking that they were crazy. Who would do that? Wasn't it irresponsible? Shouldn't you have everything planned and lined up before moving across the country?

Since then, God has been working to change my perspective. It began when He peeled my tight grip off my life in Little Rock and slowly but surely changed my circumstances, so that I would have to let go. My church. gone. My job. gone. Stuart's job. gone. Close friends. gone. Little by little, we realized that God wanted a different future for us. We had been so intent on making our life work in that one place that we were missing the big picture.

Finally, we listened.

We left and followed God to a temporary job just 30 minutes away that has now led us to be in this community for five years. During this time, God has continued to teach me that He intends to bless us and give us jobs, relationships, ministry, children, financial provision, BUT (and this is important!), we must not hold onto anything too tightly. We must enjoy it for what it is, but we must always walk in close communion with God to know when He wants us to give up those items for something else. The minute that we feel that we can't surrender those things and that they control us, then they are no longer working for His glory anymore.

The biggest influence on my perspective occured in January 2007. My dad died. If you have never lost a parent, then it is impossible to explain how much of a void it creates, especially when you are only in your thirties, and you want so much to see your own children know their grandfather. I felt much too young to feel so alone in the world. This one event has changed me forever. For the first time, I really saw how fleeting this life is -- I really got it. I saw my father's influence during his final months of life when friends from all over the world contacted him and told him what a difference he had made in their faith and their walk with God by his years as a missionary and pastor. I heard testimony after testimony about how my father had made a difference. During that time, I realized that I wanted to make that kind of a difference with my life, and I wasn't. Sure, people would come to my funeral and miss me, but I wasn't leaving a legacy. Not a real one.

One direct result of Dad's death is that it stirred my heart and made me willing to have another baby. Somehow, Dad's death made me examine my motives, my priorities, and know that there was still a little girl out there that needed to be in our family. I trusted that God would give me the strength to go through another potentially high-risk pregnancy, and God was faithful to us. Sadly, Arden will never meet her grandfather until heaven, but she will know the story that she was born as a direct result of his life. She is a part of his legacy, and hopefully of mine too.

Life is short. There are too many people who accept mediocrity as enough because of fear. I've been one of them. As Nichole Nordeman sings, "So long status quo. I think I've just let go. You make me want to be brave. The way it always was is no longer good enough." I am thankful that God has been changing my heart, so that I am hungry for more. I want to live beyond mediocrity. I want to see life as an adventure, and not as something to fear. I want to be willing to risk enough to make a difference. I want to experience Arizona sometime.

Remembering Dad

My dad died over a year ago now. It seems like it was just yesterday that I was talking to him about all the construction issues of his new house in Arkansas. His engineering mind loved processing all the details about the building process, and one of our last in-depth conversations was about the details of his fencing. He died on January 11, 2007, and he never got to know that we were going to have Arden. Somehow, I still feel that he looks down from heaven and smiles. Small things are what make me sad: not being able to call him, knowing he will never hold his granddaughter, missing his laugh, not being able to talk to him about the classes I'm teaching. It is difficult to lose a parent, and I never thought I would lose mine in my 30's. I wish we could have had more time. Dad was a great example of how to follow God with all your heart. His death has inspired me to make each day count. I want to follow God with the reckless abandon that my dad did. His faith took him on the mission field and to many situations where there was no money or safety. That is scary, yet Dad had the privilege of knowing the true communion of a faith in God that doesn't rely on safety nets. He completely trusted his Lord as his best friend. That is the best example of faith a father can leave as his legacy.