I turn the volume down on my transistor radio and knock on the bathroom door to tell Daddy I am leaving for school. It is my normal morning routine.

After high school graduation in May, I made plans to attend college in Tennessee to study journalism. Daddy wasn’t ready for me to leave home and asked if I would wait a year. I agreed, and in September, started classes at the local tech school in Bessemer.

Some days I meet my dad at his office in downtown Bessemer, and we have lunch together at the Bright Star restaurant. When he has a business luncheon, he invites me to be a part. I am enjoying this “adult life” with my dad, but I know to him, I will always be his little girl.

 “I’m leaving, Daddy. See you this afternoon. I love you.”

Listening for the sound of the shower to turn off, I pause, waiting for a response.

“You too,” he said with the water still running.

Turning the radio volume up again, I bounce down the stairway and out the front door as I listen to a popular band, the Archies, croon over the airway their latest hit song, “Sugar, sugar, you are my candy girl…” 

It is a beautiful September morning with a little nip in the air, clear skies, and a gentle breeze. I shiver and pull my pink cardigan sweater around my shoulders.

At age eighteen, life is exactly as I want—secure and carefree. My oldest brother is home from Vietnam and peace talks to end the war are in progress. The fear of war is slowly ebbing away and life is good.  There is no way for me to know that in just a few short hours, everything will change.

About midway down the steps, I feel a strong urge to tell my dad I love him one more time. So I turn and walk back up the stairs.

Pounding on the bathroom door until my dad can hear me, I say, “Daddy, I love you. I just wanted to tell you one more time.” 

He answers, “I love you, too.”  It is a treasured moment I am thankful to have.

 What If?

What if I had not turned around?

Even after all these years, the sound of his voice as he responded on that September morning of 1969, rings clear in my memory. 

How often I recall the moment when I could have kept going, driving away, but I didn’t. Instead, I stopped and turned around. 

Later in the day, my dad suffered a fatal heart attack on his way home from his office. Time stood still as grief cast a dark cloud over my life.

If I had not listened to my heart to “turn around,” I would have missed one of the most memorable moments of my life. You see, my dad was not one to vocally say the words, “I love you.” Instead, he would say, “You too.” I always knew what those words meant, but I wanted the full complete version instead of the short version. Finally, on that September morning, I got the full, heartfelt version. I could have so easily missed the moment. Forever.

I always knew my dad loved me. He loved all of his children and family. He was a good man with a big heart. During his life, I witnessed him give food from our harvest to those who were hungry; money, even if it was his last dime, to those in need; and offer our home to those who were homeless and without work.

When his work required him to travel, he often picked up hitch-hikers and fed them before he dropped them off at their destination, even if that destination was out of his way. 

One of my favorites quotes by my dad is, “It’s good to give, but it’s also good to work for what you get.” He gave to those in need but firmly believed, if possible, to work for what you get. 

He taught strong work ethics by showing, not telling.

My dad was someone I was proud to call my father. He never did anything that caused people to question his integrity.

Looking back, it was important to me to hear the words “I love you,” and thankfully, on that September day, I did. But I have learned through the years that my dad did what was more important. He showed love every day of his life by his actions.

“It’s good to give, but it’s also good to work for what you get.” James L. Crumpton

 Small Things Matter

My best friend received the news about my dad’s death and came to my side. Sitting on the floor by my bed, she prayed while I wept. Then, using my Bible from the nightstand, she read Scripture to me.

I don’t know how she did it, but she read for what seemed like hours.

When words and condolences of well-meaning neighbors and friends were inadequate, my friend did what brought me the most comfort. As she read aloud the Word of God, it was a healing balm to my broken heart.

My friend showed love to me. Not just by her spoken words but by her actions.

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” Mother Teresa

Remembering the Good

When I recall the day my dad passed away, I tend to remember the good things about that day instead of the sadness. The choice to turn around and say “I love you” one more time, and a friend who read the Bible to me, instead of trying to find comforting words, are things that have had a lasting impact.

Through the years, I’ve learned that small things often make a big difference. Small things mattered for me on that September day years ago.

Making a Difference. Can We?

I want to focus on doing something every day that can change the life of those around me. Concentrate on the good even in a sad situation and life-changing event. I’m thinking 2020 and 2021, when we reminded ourselves daily to focus on what we can do, not what we can’t.

“Focus on what you can do, not what you can’t.” Sandi, Things I Learned in 2020

How can you make a difference? First, always tell those you love that you love them, and then show it. Don’t let the opportunity pass. You never know what the next moments hold.

Look for opportunities to show love. My dad did in so many ways. He fed the hungry, gave shelter to those in need, and never let his family, including extended family members, go without basic needs. He showed how much he loved his family and the people in his life. 

Words often come easy, but to show how you feel takes action. How can you say you love someone but never show it? I don’t believe you can. True heartfelt love shows action, never just words.

It took me years to understand that my dad was one to show love, not just say it. I’m thankful and blessed to have been loved by such a great man who wasn’t afraid to show how he felt.

Our world needs a lot of love—people who are willing to put action into their words. Let’s spread love and make a difference.

“And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” Romans 8:28