Almost a Year Ago

       October 3 marks the death of my father, Edmund Gates Jr.  Seldom am I in town or at a social occasion, even after almost a year, but comments like these are made to me:

Your dad was the friendliest man I ever knew.

or

Your father was one of the nicest men I've met.

or

Your dad never met a stranger, did he?

      Dad lived by the verse in Proverbs 18:34 "A man who has friends must show himself friendly."

       In the year before Dad's stroke, he and I were in Fairfax. I had to pick up an item in a store and encouraged him to go into the store with me. I was surprised by his response, " I can't always remember names now." Of course, I told him to just say "hi" and not worry about calling the person's name.

       People mattered so much to Dad. He genuinely enjoyed interacting with people. Each individual was important to him. This was the reason it disturbed him at being unable to recall people's names as soon as he saw them. Calling the name of the person he met validated the presence of that person and stressed on Dad's part the worth of that individual.

        According to Mother, Dad made the most of meeting strangers under extremely difficult situations. She told of a return trip from Wednesday night Bible study at their church in Ralston. The old pickup' s headlights began erratically flickering. Within a mile or so of the Belford River Bridge over the Arkansas River, the headlights went out completely on the old pickup! I guess he called on his long-ago experience of driving a wagon at night or maybe it was those many nights of coon hunting as a kid that strengthened his night vision and spurred him to keep puttering toward the bridge. Just as he approached the bridge, flashing lights atop a vehicle behind him rapidly drew near. Mother's heart skipped a beat. She knew they shouldn't have driven that old pickup, but she didn't say a word. Dad pulled onto the grassy shoulder and began cranking down his window.

      Mother said Dad immediately spoke with earnest gratitude in his voice before the patrolman could utter a word, "Oh Officer, I am so glad you came along. My wife and I were just returning from church and our headlights went out. I would sure appreciate if you would follow us across this bridge. We just live about a mile from here in the Bend. If you could follow us to our home, we sure would thank you."

        The official readily agreed to Dad's request, much to Mother's surprise. Yet she would say that Dad never lacked confidence. It never entered Dad's mind that the patrolman would not see the reasonableness of his solution to a sticky situation.  

         Upon reaching the farm, Dad jumped out of the old pickup and thanked the highway patrol profusely, with genuine sincerity. Dad probably ended his expression of thanks with, "The Lord bless you." I have a hunch that Dad had begun praying silently for a safe arrival for Mother and him as soon as the headlights began blinking. 

        Dad had a heart for serving others. He wanted to help people. One time I heard exasperation in Mother's voice when he tore the slacks of his suit checking under the baptistry following a church service. He had been made aware of a possible problem. He was small and agile enough to crawl in that tight space. Why ask anyone else to do it?
         The last Christmas program he attended was in December of 2011.  Mother and I were visiting with several others in the Church sanctuary foyer. Dad, as was his custom, was patiently waiting. The door opened and a single mother slipped into the foyer. Who immediately asked if she needed help? Dad did! She was looking for her little boy's jacket. Here was a 92-year-old man who was probably tiring and ready to go home, but he put that woman's need first and began helping her look for the child's coat.
          Dad's philosophy was pretty simple - He loved the Lord, his family, and people. These song lyrics from hymns sung at his funeral poetically depict his credo - a proven pattern for all of us to replicate in our own lives.

Oh, how I love Jesus, because He first loved me.

Trust and obey, for there's no other way

To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.

Dad and Me after church on his 91st birthday.