I was only 23 years old when cancer took my dad. (24 years ago today)

There are some losses that time never fully heals. You learn how to live around them, but you never stop feeling them.

As the years have passed, I have experienced so many moments that I wish I could have shared with him. I have watched my children grow. I have reached goals I never thought I would achieve. I have survived things that broke me. I have learned hard lessons, found my way back to God, and begun building a life that I can be proud of.

And in every one of those moments, there has been a part of me that wished I could pick up the phone and call my dad.

I wish he could see the woman I have become.

I wish he could see his grandchildren.

I wish he could celebrate the victories with me and remind me that I was capable when I doubted myself.

There are days when I ache for one more conversation, one more laugh, one more “atta girl Rach!”

But more than anything, I miss his hugs.

My dad gave the kind of hugs that made everything feel okay. Big, tight hugs that made me feel safe. Hugs that told you that no matter what happened, you weren’t alone. Hugs that could calm a storm inside my heart without a single word being spoken.

I still miss those hugs.

Sometimes life feels heavy, and I find myself wishing I could walk through his front door, sit down beside him, and hear him tell me everything was going to be alright.

I am so thankful that he left me a legacy, that he loved God, that he followed God.

He wasn’t perfect, but he showed our family what it looked like to walk in faith. He led the way. He planted seeds that are still bearing fruit today. Because he followed God, I knew where to turn when my own life fell apart. Because he trusted God, I learned that faith could carry me through seasons of grief, addiction, heartbreak, and uncertainty.

His greatest inheritance wasn’t money or possessions.

It was his example.

It was the foundation of faith he built for our family.

It was showing us that God is faithful even when life is not.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that the greatest way I can honor my dad is not simply by remembering him. It’s by living out the values he taught me. It’s by following God with my whole heart. It’s by loving my children well. It’s by choosing integrity when it’s difficult. It’s by continuing the legacy he started.

Thankful for the legacy he left behind.

And one day, when Jesus calls me home, I will have my daddy again!