Remembering Pa Gibbs

Just a heads up that this post really has nothing to do with immigration or Mexico or anything of that nature. My dad has been on my mind a lot lately as we're nearing the date of his departure from this earth and I wanted to share with you how this precious man that I was privileged to call my father has shaped who I have become and has even influenced who I have chosen to spend the rest of my life with. I will be in Mexico on March 4th, the anniversary of his homegoing, so I thought I would post this ahead of time in honor of that date.

As I'm sure most of you are aware, Dad was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer in December of 2010 and he died a few short months later. I am blessed to be able to say that I really have no regrets when it comes to my relationship with Dad. I have many fond memories of going on tractor rides with him and tagging along in the car to go check on the crops at the different farms. Though many girls have said that their dads kinda distanced themselves from them when they started going through puberty, this time of my life did not scare my father. Perhaps it was because I was the baby of his five girls and he had plenty of practice. I always knew that no matter what, my dad was on my side. He was always there to hug me when I needed a hug and to tell me he loved me when I had a bad day. Maybe he was soft because he had all girls or maybe God gave him all girls because he created him to be a softie. Whatever the reason, my Dad was good at being a girls' daddy.

Not only did Dad treat his daughters well, but he also was a good example of a godly husband. Though he and my mom had a few "disagreements" now and then, I had no doubt that my dad was totally devoted to her. Though it was usually just meat and potatoes, my dad took his turn at preparing lunch or supper when he could and he always pitched in with the dishes. He was truly a servant to his wife and his familty, and I could tell that my mom respected him and loved him as well. Their marriage was a partnership built on Christ and serving him together. Their home was open to all of their children--from all over the world. Many people of no blood relation have seen my parents as mom and dad or grandma and grandpa over the years.

I do regret that my dad didn't get to spend very much time with Raul before he passed away. Though they are very different, they are also very much the same. I can tell that Raul loves me and he serves me much the way that my dad loved and served my mom. Dad set the bar very high, but my I'm sure that my husband can live up to my dad's example with the Lord's help. One of the most precious memories that I have was from one of the last times that I was with my dad. Raul and I were taking him to the ER in the middle of the night because of blood clots in his leg. I was in the driver's seat and dad was already in the truck as well and Dad asked, "Where's my boy?". He was referring to Raul and at that moment, it became clear to me that Dad thought of Raul as his son. Before Dad died, we were talking about how Raul was going to take care of me and he said, "I love that boy." Me too, Dad. Me, too.

I miss my dad so very much and as I type this tribute to him, I'm wiping away the tears. Yet, I know that I will see him again one day. Thank you, Lord, for this godly man you gave me to call my father. Thank you for his faithfulness to you. May Raul and I live up to the example that he and Mom have set before us. Amen.