It’s 12:45am on March 21st, and I am in absolute shock. My daddy—my rock for my 38 years on this planet—is gone from this earth. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. But I need to say something. Truth be told, this is the only time I could ever share this much about him without him disowning me. If social media has made its way up to heaven, I’m in big trouble.
To My Daddy—
Thank you for being my father, my friend, and my kids’ Poppy.
Thank you for teaching me how to love—hard and unconditionally.
Thank you for teaching me how to work my ass off, own up to my mistakes, and dream big.
Thank you for teaching me the importance of a firm handshake.
Thank you for showing me compassion and instilling in me the importance of showing compassion toward others.
Thank you for telling me you loved me. My entire life. At 8, 18, 28, 38…those words, put together, coming out of your mouth, meant more to me than you will ever know.
Thank you for teaching me how to make a damn good list. #OCD
Thank you for sneaking me ice when the doctors said I couldn’t have any after 34 hours of labor.
Thank you for constantly doing for others, and not expecting a single thing in return. I’ve never seen someone so uncomfortable on the receiving end of appreciation.
Thank you for loving animals—alot of animals—like, a ridiculous amount of animals.
Thank you for being the softest giant to ever walk this planet.
Thank you for being an ornery SOB. I like to think—even as a woman—I’m following in your footsteps everyday in that regard.
I pray that I will make you proud in the days and years to come.
I love you.
I have received countless calls and messages in the short time since my father passed away, and you know what’s cool? I’ve heard them all before. What people have said about my dad in death are the same things they said when he was alive. In my estimation, that means you’ve lived a damn good life.
If you had the pleasure of knowing Don Jones, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
Well done, Poppa. I am so proud to be your daughter.