Monthly Archives: March 2015

Happy Birthday, Dad

Today my father would have celebrated his 85th birthday. He is dearly loved and deeply missed. Thank you, Dad, for the forever imprint you placed on my heart. I’m so grateful to be your daughter.

My dad and meYou took us to the other side of the world to serve others but that never stopped you from taking care of us. No fixit request we dropped on you last minute was ever too much. You modeled what being a faithful spouse should look like. You were a man of few words and much integrity, with the tenacity required to catch Canada’s biggest and finest and bring home the BPOW fishing trophy to prove it.

  • I will miss you telling me “love you lots” when you said goodbye.
  • I will miss your dry humor, sometimes so esoteric that only you knew you were saying something funny.
  • I will miss you grumbling about Mom making taco salad for dinner on “fun food Friday.”
  • I will miss you ringing my doorbell and sending the dog into distinctive fits of yowling, announcing that we were about to welcome a very special guest.
  • I will miss being able to take my broken “whatevers” over to your house – knowing you’ll figure out a way to make it all better.
  • I will miss you calling me Barbie, watching Fox News, and listening to obnoxious talk radio super loud while you paint my house.
  • I will miss your reaching for my hand as we bow our heads and thank God for the food.
  • I will miss your declining days, when you took long naps in your chair.
  • I will miss you being sick – but… still here with us.

Now that you’re gone, it feels like the earth has shifted on its axis. And until we see each other again, I will never stop missing you.

I love you, Dad. Love you lots…


Renaissance Man

Bob-BeikertMy dad wore size elevens, but the shoes he filled in my life were much bigger. He was a man of faith, a loving husband who sacrificed for his kids, he had an impeccable work ethic, and was remarkably resourceful. He owed much of this to his parents, Andy and Margaret Beikert, who also passed down this legacy to their 19 grandchildren.

Young Bob started going to church three times a week when he was just a tiny baby, as evidenced by his “Cradle Roll” registration at 3 days old. His parents were from large farming families in western PA, a place where they say “you’ns” instead of “ya’ll.” They met at church, married, and had seven children. Bob was the oldest and the only boy. They lived in a 325 square foot house with no indoor plumbing.

My father told me that he grew up greatly impacted by the gospel; his mother faithfully reading Bible stories and praying with him every day. When he was 9 years old he made a public profession of faith by walking down a sawdust aisle in the old tabernacle. Continue reading