My Daddy

Today, December 20th, is my Dad's birthday.

On January 2nd, it will be 13 years since he passed away, after fighting melanoma for 5 years.

I was 12 when he went home to Jesus.

The memories of his fight with cancer are terrible. I've blocked a lot of those years out. It was heart wrenching to see a young man so full of life and exuberance essentially melt away into a feeble old man.

But I do have so many good memories of him.

Like how much he loved my mother.

Do you see how he was BEAMING on their wedding day?

Wes and I were extremely lucky to have grown up in a home where a father loved a mother. Not only did he love her, but he adored her. We saw them kiss and rarely ever saw them fight. He brought her flowers and candy and trinkets. They snuggled on the couch, unless I jumped in between them. They had a beautiful love story - a love story that is something to be envied, and what I hoped to recreate when I got older.

And I did. :)

I also remember how much he loved his children.

Dad and Wes were best buds.

They were two peas in a pod. They loved to be silly and do stupid things to annoy Mom and me. Dad brainwashed Wes fairly early to be a Gator fan so that he could have someone else in the house to enjoy Florida football as much as he did. They played sports together, built Legos, played video games...Dad thoroughly enjoyed his time with Wes.

He was so proud of Wes' accomplishments. Wes is the smart one, so Dad loved when Wes would come home with A's, defended him to the death when a teacher accused him of cheating, and went all the way to Kentucky with him to compete in the National Science Fair.

He also almost got kicked out of a basketball game when he felt like the other team was cheating against Wes' team...

And then there was me.

Dad was my hero and I was his princess. He spent countless hours singing and dancing with me all over the house. He had a beautiful tenor voice that I can still hear singing Steven Curtis Chapman's "I Will Be Here." It was our song. He was a big teddy bear that I could snuggle up to. We would read together, color together, and put jigsaw puzzles together - that was his favorite.

This doll house was built by my Granddaddy and Uncle Bill, and Dad and I painted it together. I can't wait to give it to Brooke Allen one day.

And then there are memories of just how FUN he was.

He was a youth minister, so being silly was part of his job description. The youth kids loved hanging out with him as much as we did. The picture above is from a Wednesday night with Frank, the music minister. They were performing a song called "Green and Gaudy" to the tune of Tom Petty's "Free Falling." He was so creative at putting together skits and funny games for the youth to play - it was a trait that was hard for him to stifle when he moved into being a head pastor. He saw no better way to relate to young people than by being totally uninhibited. He never had a problem making a fool of himself if that meant he was going to reach one more kid for Christ.

He was fun at home too. I don't know how many times he would put underwear on his head and run through the house. He didn't think twice about using a fake accent in the drivethrough, and then changing back to his normal voice when he got to the window to confuse the workers. He encouraged imagination and creativity in our house. To say that I got the silly genes from him is an understatement.

He wasn't your typical pastor, as you can see. He listened to classic rock music like The Eagles and Chicago. He watched Dave Letterman every night, and Saturday Night Live on the weekends. His books in his office were covered up by toys and figurines that he had collected. He read Calvin and Hobbes every day in the newspaper, and would let Wes watch Beavis and Butthead with him while Mom was at choir practice - a secret they kept from Mom for a long time.

But he knew the Word of God backwards and forwards. He studied different theologies to get a better grip on his Christian faith. He was an amazing preacher who could teach you so much, but in a relatable, friendly way. God's grace and love shined brightly through my Dad in every step that he took, and he never shied away from an opportunity to share this grace and love with others.

Matching windsuits at Disney World...you have to love the 90s. Cool fanny pack, Mom.

Dad was loved by many, many people outside of our family. To this day, people will say to me, "Oh, you're Allen Thornton's daughter? Let me tell you what he did for me." Mom, Wes, and I are humbled by the compliments people share about Dad and the things he did - things we weren't even aware of. He left a lasting legacy on everyone he came in contact with.

This legacy is one that I will share with my children. Oh, how he would have loved his grandchildren. He would have spoiled them rotten.

He and Ben would have been such good friends. They have similar traits that are sometimes scary - like their penchant for trying on hats in department stores. I just know they would have teamed up against me to poke fun at me. But like he always said, "If you're not teased, you're not loved." Ben lives this out to me, too.

Dad would have given his full approval for me to marry Ben. Not that he wouldn't have given him a hard time, but he would have seen what I see in Ben. He would see his desire to protect me and take care of me. Ben is exactly the man Dad would tell me he was praying for me to find when I was older.

I would have given anything for Dad to have walked me down the aisle, danced with me at my reception, and hold my baby girl in March. But we didn't get that opportunity.

Sometimes I feel cheated that I didn't get to experience these things with my dad. He missed my first date, my first prom, my graduation, my engagement, and my wedding. My children will miss having a grandfather. He missed all the not so good stuff in between when I could have used some advice.

But then I am reminded of where he is. He lived his life with one purpose - to glorify God. Yes, he was a father, a husband, a pastor, and a friend to many people, but he did all those things in order to glorify God. Even his funeral had that purpose - we had an altar call.

So now he is whole again. He is praising before his Jesus. He is seeing what he longed to see while here on Earth. I'd like to think that he's having a birthday party today. One with great music, German chocolate cake (his favorite), and lots of silly dancing.

One day, I'm going to join him up there. And we will dance and sing like we always did. But not yet.