Not everyone puts their mother or father on a pedestal. Many today are unworthy of that adulation. Those of us who have had parents worthy of reverence in any manner are indeed blessed. My Dad was one such man.

Perfect? Far from it, but the idea of hoping for perfection in anyone you care for (besides Jesus Christ) is a fools errand at best. At worst, it warps our reality of who people really are. They are flawed. You, me, everyone else on this planet is born into sin, and only Jesus can redeem us so we may one day stand in front of the Almighty and be allowed passage into the Kingdom of Heaven. Some by the skin of their teeth.

My father, although flawed as we all are, had the Holy Spirit residing in him. He was a loving, giving person, who gave more to churches and individuals than I’m sure I’ll ever know, and I know about a lot of it. He loved the Lord with all his heart, and expressed it through his love of music constantly.

When I look back from a very young age until the present, my Dad, like so many others, had to grow into his role. West Point taught him white glove inspections were good discipline for a six year old kid. Reality disagreed and those tactics were set aside. My Dad was crazy intelligent and, with people like that, it can be a struggle to work within the confines of “what is” versus your expectations of “what things should be.” 

My Father was, throughout my life, a kind, generous, smart and faithful man. He never beat his wife or children, always provided for them in good and bad times, and displayed a level of morality and character in all his dealings with others that was a huge influence on me for sure. He was also someone who didn’t connect with kids all that well (Until his grandkids of course!), and was the quintessential workaholic. It was in part, his way to contract the world around him to the things he could control, at least that’s in part how I see it. When it comes to me and how my brain works, the apple fell very close to the tree indeed. 

My Dad (and my Mom too) was always there for me when I needed them, and sometimes that was more than I would care to admit. The one thing my parents always ingrained in me was that I could do anything if I only put my mind to it, and that’s meant a lot. Dad was very funny in a drier sense, and his analytical mind always produced insights others couldn’t or wouldn’t see. Like me, I know my Dad was both blessed and cursed with a brain that basically had no off switch, and was a Ferrari engine at idle even while sleeping.

I couldn’t imagine having or wanting anyone else for a Father. I saw him at his best, his worst, and everywhere in-between. He was a real person, not a caricature of one. I don’t have personal heroes because I don’t believe in idolizing any man, but if I did he’d be at the top of the list. What he was to me was a man to respect, honor, and even like as someone who I could be lifelong friends with. I don’t know how to ask for more, nor would I choose to. 

My Dad in so many ways, died years ago. The cancer, medicines, fatigue and general degeneration of his body changed his personality. Was he still the same in spirit, in intelligence, in his love for his wife and kids, and for Jesus? Absolutely, and I thank God that until just a few weeks before his death on August 22, 2018, he maintained his mental faculties. That would have been so much worse for a man like him, and by proxy, for us. 

I have had, over the decades, fights with my faith. I am blessed to say those days are now long behind me and my faith in Jesus Christ and all that encompasses is stronger than ever. This makes my joy, relief at Dad’s pain being replaced by a new body, and the fact I will one day see him again in eternity, all too real. I am grateful I don’t have to mourn the loss of an unsaved loved one again. The despair I would feel if my Dad wasn’t saved would break me, truly it would.

As it is, he’s probably up there right now, playing the latest cool HEVN-777 keyboard with some angel accompaniment, and looking down from time to time to check in on those he loves. Plus he now knows a heck of a lot more about how things really work than he ever did on Earth, and that puts his mind to rest. For the first time ever.

Chris is the first born son of William Tome, and hopes one day he can measure up to the human being he calls Dad. He is in awe of his Mother’s dedication and care for Dad right to the end. RIP Pops.

Chris