Thank you Daddy

I realize I'm a little late, but I wanted to talk about my Daddy as so many others have. He adopted me when he was 51 years old and I was a baby. He had two grown children with several grandchildren, but he knew I needed a home and he was willing to open his life up for me. He loved his grandchildren and called them 'the kids'. They probably don't have lots of memories of him, like myself, since he died so early. He was a bald, pudgy man the whole time I knew him, except the end. He was diagnosed with colon cancer when I was 9. He lived two years in and out of the hospital and became a bony shell of a man. He didn't question why he had become so sick. He just prayed for Jesus to take him. I have the memories of him crying out at night and I still can't deal with hearing a grown man cry. I wanted to help my Daddy, but prayer was the only thing I could do. My mother exhausted herself caring for him and having to make sure I was taken care of. I don't have lots of memories of my daddy not being sick, but I do remember him taking us fishing. I would read while they fished. He had a big laugh and for his last years of health he was an elevator operator. He was in a big office building in downtown Indianapolis. He drank coffee all day long and had multitudes of friends that rode his elevator. They would bring him Christmas gifts for me, as he talked of me often to them. I am thankful I had some sweet memories of my Daddy. I wish I hadn't lost him so early, but he is with the Lord and I am thankful daily that He placed me with such sweet loving parents. Those of you that still have your parents are blessed. I would love to hug my Daddy just one more time. I will some day.