My Father, the Captain was a true Officer & Gentleman of the highest caliber. A genuine diplomat & magnificant administrator. My brothers and I could not have had better parents teaching us the guiding principles of life. They instilled in each of us love, trust, integrity, honesty laced with a commitment to truth. We were raised in the Presbyterian Church, you know, the frozen chosen. At the age of 32, I was awakened to the reality of who Christ is and the life I was chosen and called to live.
Mom & Dad were the true heroes, like in the days of old, but in real life heroism is not glorious or fun. It's painful, dangerous, exhausting and at the end of the day they seek no recognition yet relieved and battered by the experience. Daily they would pick up their cross and soldier on without recourse or complaint, rarely sharing their wants, needs or hurts. Ambassadors of the highest order to Father's Glory.
Every man Dad met, he was their friend, as exhibited on the sad day of his funeral. He always saw past the differences of others seeing to the core of why we are alive and why we are together and what our mission is on Earth. Dad always accepted the beauty, meaning and good fortune that all our differences actually represent and Mother was usually in step keenly at his side. His sudden departure while deer hunting with the President of Penn State left a huge gulf in her life.
Onward and upward...
