Letter to Daddy

(Letter to her father Tim Cox by Angelia Cox Ogburn, read by Pastor Bryan Slater at Tim’s funeral on Monday, December 18, 2006.)

Daddy,

I am sitting in a church full of people who have lost someone so precious to them that I almost feel selfish to be in such deep agony. The world is grieving for a man that shone as bright as the sun even on his worst days. I know exactly what you would say to me and your voice has echoed in my head since the moment you passed, "Princess, it's okay" and "Oh Princess, I would do anything to take away the pain you're feeling".

That's the man you were in life, in pain or even in death you were always worried if I was doing anything less than smiling. You dried my tears through the phone and when you couldn't I could hear your tears for my pain - you just LOVED me, all of me, the good the bad and the ugly. I even asked you one day to forgive me for when I was short or rude on the phone and you said "Oh Princess, I'm your Daddy. All I ever want is to just be a part of your life, even on the bad days I still think you hung the moon."

You made the world a better place for us all, but especially for me. God blessed me with more than a father, he gave me a friend, a rock and an angel that I could always lean on. And Boy did I lean on you my Daddy, and you happily would tell me to lean harder, you just wanted to take my pain away and hear me laugh.

I knew my whole life you had to fight to be here every day, through all the physical ailments, which you NEVER even let me in on unless I really pushed you to tell me. You wanted to share my joys and shelter me from pain, both mine and your own.

It helps to have all those memories and all our conversations running through my head. What I can hardly bear is the silence. My cell phone kept you in my pocket for the quiet moments driving when I would call you for no reason other than to hear "Well HEY yourself" and have a laugh with you about Bella or Liam's latest shenanigans.

I literally feel lost on so many levels. I am a grown woman with Mapquest close at hand and maps in my glove box that I've never used because I kept you in my pocket. A blind man was happily my road map through this life, telling me which way to turn at the corner and giving landmarks along the way.

You spent my whole life watching over me and helping me get to where I was supposed to go, in my car, in my heart, as a parent to your beloved grandbabies and even helping with filing thoughts in my own head during hard situations. You were my best friend and where I put all my silly passing thoughts.

You mended my broken dreams, and you made me laugh, but mostly you made me feel like I was the most important person on the earth, a true Princess. You let me know I was your gift from God, even on the days I felt like I didn't have anything left to give the world you made sure I knew I was loved beyond measure. You were there for me ALWAYS, day or night to help refill my soul when my tank was empty. You gave me my strength, and the dignity to face the world, because win or lose you were there to LOVE me unconditionally.

You soothed me and comforted me when you yourself were hurting from the physical pain this life held for you. You never let me see any of your pain, you just wanted to drink in every ounce life through me. You were there for it all and we made it to all of your goals for me together.

I've confided before that it was a lot of pressure to be told someone is fighting to live until their daughter reaches certain milestones in life, such as High School graduation, then the goal was to see me marry, to graduate from college, and to see your grandbabies. I selfishly wish we could have made it to just one more milestone, maybe one more Christmas or even just one more hug.

I now know that wasn't in God's plan. He must have decided Heaven's band needed a new French horn player and a comedian to have pound cake with. You can look down and SEE your grandbabies now, all your pain is gone Daddy, and you can dance and run and maybe even water-ski again now.

My heart aches and my keyboard is covered with my tears but I KNOW for a fact that I come from good stock and if ever a love could transcend time and last far longer than your last breath, the love you had for me will get me through this and the road that lies ahead. I know I will see you again one day, God willing it will be a long time from now, but I will always smile knowing you will be waiting to give me a hug, your beautiful smile and to dance with me in heaven.

So save me a piece of pound cake and I'll see you one day, and you will finally SEE me, not that you ever needed sight for that, you always saw with your heart.

Thank you my Daddy, thank you a million times over for letting me be your Princess. I love you ALWAYS my Daddy. Save me a dance...

To the congregation:

I thought I should share one of my most embarrassing moments, which was just one more illustration of how funny and amazing my father really was:

I’m not clear on what year it was, but it was the first Christmas after my dad’s legs were amputated and my mother had done the same as she had always done and purchased and wrapped my Christmas presents for my dad, Bette, and my grandparents. I hadn’t asked or didn’t listen when she told me what was in the packages. So you can imagine my surprise when my father opened a Christmas package from me containing a dozen socks.

I was mortified. I wanted to crawl under the chair I was sitting in. But without missing a beat my dad cheerfully said “Well I won’t ever have to buy socks again. These will never wear out!” A man with no feet found a way to appreciate being given socks for Christmas. That was my dad in a nutshell. He always made lemonade out of lemons, and served it with a smile.

Angelia Cox Ogburn

"Tim's Song"

Written by Barb Pazey, May, 1987 for Tim Cox.

In May of 1987 Tim was admitted to McLeod Hospital with unstable angina, and while there, hooked up to the monitors on the heart floor, he had cardiac arrest. He never stopped talking — Dr. Ken Hanger, his cardiologist, was standing right outside the room looking at Tim's chart when the alarms came in, came running into the room and put an emergency pacemaker in, then took him down to the Cardiac Lab to open up that artery. Tim had bypass surgery a week or so later.

However, in the middle of the night after the heart attack, the Lord gave this song to Barb Pazey, a lady who played the piano while I played the organ at First Pentecostal Baptist Church out at Effingham, to let her know that Tim would live and not die. Tim and I have played it together many times over the years, and I played it here at Trinity on December 3rd, when Keith asked if I would like to play for Communion. Tim told me later that it meant a lot to him that I played that song, he just wished he'd had his horn with him and could had played it with me.

Here's "Tim's Song."

Thanks be unto God the father, and to the Holy Ghost,
He sent his Son to die for me, and gave me eternal life.
Thanks be unto God the father, and to the Holy Ghost,
He made me whole by the blood of the Lamb,
and He's Jesus Christ, my Lord.

Thanks be unto God the father, and to the Holy Ghost,
He sent his Son to die for me, and gave me eternal life.
Thanks be unto God the father, and to the Holy Ghost,
He made me whole by the blood of the Lamb,
and He's Jesus Christ, yes He's Jesus Christ,
yes He's Jesus Christ, my Lord.