Yesterday, as we were driving the long stretch between San Antonio and Alamo, I got this text. Oh, we had been expecting it – Uncle Rich had been failing for the last couple of weeks – but still the tears welled up. This is the man who welcomed me into the family with incessant teasing, making me feel instantly loved. This is the man, who with his beautiful wife, gathered my husband into their family when his family fell apart.
This is the man who modeled for my man what a Christ-centered love looks like.
This is a man, who while we rejoice in his home going, will be so very missed.
This is a man who lived Philippians 1:21:
For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
His gain, heaven’s gain – our loss.
He’s gone home, Steph
He’s gone home.
As his last days drew near, his daughter Robin, our cousin/friend/sister, wrote a beautiful piece – My Father’s Hands – that speaks so eloquently of this man and his testimony. If you have a couple of minutes, I can promise they will be minutes well spent.