1 Year Ago Today

It was a year ago today that my dad, Wallace Joseph Hollier, Jr, passed away after a long battle with cancer. I know a lot of people and a lot of obituaries say that someone "lost their battle with cancer," but I don't see it that way. When you end up where Dad is, and you're experiencing the things he's experiencing now, it doesn't seem right to call it a loss...

There is literally not a day that goes by that I don't think about Dad. Right after he passed away, someone told me that losing a parent is like losing a leg- you never really get over it, you just learn to get by without it- and they were exactly right. I'm not "over it," and know that I probably never will be. That would be insulting to Dad- that I "got over it." That I got to a point where I was ok with the fact that he's not around. I'll never be ok with it. It sucks. I hate it. But I would never, ever, wish that he was here instead of where he is now. I know that he's healthy, healed, experiencing the fulness of God's glory. I honestly don't know how anyone could go through the loss of a loved one without the comfort that comes from knowing the Lord.

One of the hardest things is knowing that Dad won't get to see Sam grow up. I don't believe that he's looking down on us from heaven. That's not biblical, or theologically sound. I pray every day for Sam's salvation, and know that they'll meet one day, but it's hard that Sam will never get to play with his PawPaw. That he'll never hear him play Willie Nelson songs in the guitar, or see him turn a chunk of wood into a coffee table or bookshelf. They'll never get to go fishing, or play golf, or wrestle in the living room floor. It won't bother Sam- he'll never know anything different. I never knew my Grandpa Hollier; he died the year before I was born, but I always liked hearing about him. Just the other day, we were at my Aunt Polly's house (Dad's sister) eating a big BBQ lunch, and they said, "Remember what Daddy used to say? 'I wonder what the poor folks are eating...'" I like hearing those stories about Grandpa Hollier, and hope that Sam will like to hear about his PawPaw, too.

There are a lot of men in my life that I look up to and respect. The Lord has surrounded me with men who encourage me, help me, answer my questions about fatherhood, home repair, how to cook a steak- all those things I would've called Dad for. I am eternally grateful for those men, but I'll only ever have one Daddy. He was the guy who called me Poot, and I have no idea why. He coached my little league teams, even though I stunk. He taught me how to bait a hook, clean a fish, hit a driver, play a country song, and be an honorable man. He showed me what it looked like to work hard, be honest, love family, and submit to the Lord. He wasn't perfect- far from it, and he'd be the first to admit it. But Dad knew what it meant to love his family, and the Lord. I know I'll see him again one day, and I'm looking forward to it, but I sure do miss him...

Go tell your family you love them

-Jared