To: dad@missingyou.hvn

Wow! What can I say? It seems like it’s been forever. I suppose I would come closer to saying everything I truly feel in this format rather than face to face. That was always tough for me when dealing with you. You had that overpowering presence about you. You seemed to take over a room when you walked into it, without even trying.

I never told you some of the things I am about to tell you when you were with us. The main reason is that I did not know these things at the time. They came into being as I got older, joined the workforce, got married, and became a parent. I hope you liked the flowers we brought out last week. Deb fixed them up, as she always does, and I dropped them off. I brought Mallorie and Micah with me. Mal was reading your headstone and she got this shocked look on her face. She looked up and pointed to the stone and then at me and said “That’s YOUR name!” I had to explain the whole “junior” concept to her at that point. You would have had a time with those grandkids…as if they aren’t spoiled enough. At last count there were over thirty. What a family tree and legacy. I hope someday those kids realize where they came from.

You were rough around the edges, a bit uncouth at times, always direct and honest, and often hid your enormous heart. I knew you would give the shirt right off your back to someone who needed it. I have even heard that is why you wore your shirt outside your overalls. The only thing you asked in return was fairness and respect. You had a hard time with people who did not understand that. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, as they say.

The family has undergone a lot of changes since you left. It seems that you were the only one strong enough to hold things together. I was ashamed of the way things fell apart and felt guilty about it for the longest time; but I had to realize I had my hands full with my own life. I hate we didn’t have more time together. At seventeen, it didn’t make sense and it didn’t seem fair. I was mad at you, mad at God, and just plain mad. I thought there was so much that I had to learn; but as I got older I saw that you had planted a lot of seeds that were beginning to grow.

I want to thank you for being the hard-nosed, old-fashioned and tough man you were. I didn’t understand it way back then, but I appreciate it now. Sure, you weren’t perfect and there were things I would have liked to have been different. Yet looking back I see you did the best job you could with the skills you had. I often hear one of your speeches or statements coming out of my mouth when I am talking to my girls. They roll their eyes at me like I did at you; occasionally they puff like I used to; and I respond just like you did by saying “Go ahead and puff like a puffin’ adder, but you better hear me!” There’s that apple again…

Yesterday while going through security at the airport I patted myself down to make sure I had not left anything in my pockets. I couldn’t help laughing when it dawned on me it was the same old routine you did daily when you were looking for your cigarettes, lighter, or anything else that was lost in the pockets of your bib overalls. I get told a lot that I look like you. I smile when I hear it because I can’t think of a better compliment that anyone could pay me.

Not long after you left, I dropped the Junior from my name. Some didn’t understand it, but I had always hated “Jimmy”. I figured the best tribute I could pay you would be to honor the name you gave me. I hope I can live up to it. I guess I can relate to George “Dubya” in that regard. You had your gig. I had mine. I hope we both did ok.

A lot of years went by before I found out that you had prayed the week you left. If I got my facts straight, two different times with two different men of God. That was you to a T…making sure things were square. I can look forward to seeing you again and that really encourages me. To see my Heavenly Father and to know my earthly one is there too…what an awesome experience that will be.

I often try to imagine what you would be like if you were still here. Your hair would have to still be dark because as I tell your daughter-in-law, “Cooper men don’t go gray”, ha ha. You and Momma living under the big oak tree, spending time with the grands and great-grands, and keeping the peace. It would be amazing to come to you for advice. It would be worth the price of admission to hear you two “tie up” again too. You would have been 86 next week. Wow.

About a year ago I found a website dedicated to dirt track racing in Mississippi. There was picture of you going around the track in the #77 car. I have had an old Polaroid of that same car for years and I never knew until that moment whose car it was. Through the webmaster I was put in touch with the track announcer from the Laurel track back in the fifties. His memory of you was as sharp as ever. He told me about the wreck that almost killed you; and about one that did kill another driver. He told me about your driving style and how nothing seemed to rattle you. He told me there wasn’t an engine around that you couldn’t listen to and fix. You would not believe how that made me feel.

I don’t know what’s going on lately…maybe life is catching up to me; maybe it’s the mortgage, the kids, the bills…I don’t know. It just feels like I have finally connected with you the way I always wanted to. It’s strange; I almost feel like I need to go through the grieving process again. This time not as an angry teenager, but as an adult who really understands. Lord knows I miss you…and so do a lot of others. I feel sorry for those folks who never really got to know you; I have heard some say they were scared of you. If they only knew who they were dealing with, they wouldn’t have felt that way.

I think you would be proud of the way we all turned out. We are battle-scarred for sure; but hopefully wiser for all the wear and tear. You were always a music fan and I like to think you would have enjoyed mine. They say a person’s outlook on God is often shaped by their view of their Dad. It took a long time to get the image of God smacking me when I messed up out of my head. It took years to finally see the loving person that you were inside, and I could have only seen that by knowing a loving God.

Happy (late) Father’s Day and Happy (early) Birthday. With the rate she’s going, this old earth can’t last much longer; so we’ll see you soon I am sure. I miss you every day and so does the rest of the gang…even the ones you never got to meet. I love you,

Jr.