Daddy's Little Girl

They say a girl's first hero is her father. Everyone's heard the term, "Daddy's little girl". The saying couldn't fit me better than anything else in this world. My dad was a hard-working man. Stern. Devoted. Old fashioned. Those are just a few to name. Anyone who knew him would say he was sarcastic and stubborn. He was definitely one-of-a-kind. His name was Dennis Randall "Randy" Tanner.

He was the fourth out of 8 children, and he was what you would consider a "wild child". Once he told us a story of how he was on the highway "directing traffic" even though he was not a person of that occupation. After stopping a few cars, he recognized one to be his father's car, and that's when he realized he was in big trouble.

Giving people a hard time and joking around was one of my dad's personality traits. He always made people laugh with his remarks, but he also wasn't very affectionate. He didn't show or tell his feelings...ever. But he made it a point for us to know he loved us.

In fact, I only seen my dad cry one time in my whole life of knowing the man. It was when my stepmother passed away. They had spent 17 years together. I saw him cry a little at her memorial service.

One of the many things he was famously know for was his love for old country music, Coors Light, and a nice BBQ get together at the house. He always cooked out on the grill, listening to George Jones, Ray Price, Hank Williams Sr., and so many more. Sometimes we would two-step in the kitchen, or after he drank a few too many, he would pretend our cordless house phone was a guitar or violin and pretend to play it.

My dad had many roles throughout life. He worked at his dad's gas station when he was very young. Then he took on the hardships of working in the oil field industry. After that, he went to truck driving which is what he did for most of his years. My whole adolescent life, he would be gone for weeks at a time. When he would come home, I would skip school a few days just to spend time with him. I remember once he sat me in his lap and let me steer his semi. We drove around for about an hour. The memory is so distant, but it's one I'll remember forever.

When I got a little older, I got to go out on the road with him during the summertime and see so many new places. I've seen the statue of liberty...from afar, but I still got to see it. I've been all the way up the east coast, and all the way up the west coast to Washington. My dad was a man of few words. So, most of the time, we just sat as I watched out the window and listened to the radio.

In 2001, my dad came off the road permanently to work for a saltwater company so he could be home every night. Four years later, after many stents placed throughout his body due to blockage, he had to have a quadruple heart bypass which caused him to lose his CDL, because he was a risk. So instead of driving, he became a dispatcher for the company. He worked there for several years, until he received the bad news. He had cancer.

His diagnosis was APL Leukemia. The news was heart breaking to all of us. My dad always said that he didn't want to live to be 80, so I thought for sure this was going to be the end. I was convinced he was going to let the cancer take him, so I tried to prepare myself. He shocked us all by cooperating with the doctors to try and beat the cancer. He was in the hospital almost four months doing treatments and chemotherapy. And he surprised us all by beating cancer. I'd never been so relieved to hear that his cancer was in remission.

During his struggle with the cancer, he lost his right leg due to blocked arteries that were not able to be operated on due to the severeness of the cancer. Basically, his leg died. His leg was amputated above the knee.

It was so hard to see my father in this condition. He was always so strong. Independent. Seeing him weak and helpless killed me. But he kept fighting. He was determined not to let a missing leg stop him. And it didn't. He couldn't work like he wanted to anymore, being forced into early retirement. It took him a long time to adjust to that. His whole life, he was always a busy person.

Impatient is a description that fit him well. And if we thought he was impatient before he lost his leg...after, was way worse. He was always the person when he tells you to do something, you do it right then. I may have inherited a little of that from him. In fact, there's a lot I got from that man. Some good. Some not so good. Sarcasm and stubbornness are high on that list. But so is having a good work ethic, caring heart, doing everything it takes to take care of your family, OCD, slight anger issues...

He showed us unconditional love. Something I'll always carry with me and pass on to my children as well. He loved his grandchildren. Unfortunately, my dad went through a series of events which caused him to lose his left leg as well, making him a double leg amputee.

But again, he didn't let that bring him down. He always tried to find humor in everything. He always joked with people about his condition. One time at Walmart, a guy came up and asked him, "Did you lose your legs in the war?" This was a question he was asked several times, and I expected his usual honest answer that no it wasn't. What I heard instead was, "Nope. Shark bite." I nearly fell on the floor rolling.

After that, he moved in with us so we could help him out. He did most things by himself. But he was constricted to his wheelchair. Not being able to do much physical activity, he became a major people watcher. He knew everything that was going on in our neighborhood!

Living with him was certainly a challenge. We got on his nerves, and he got on ours. It was a giant circle. He spoiled my children. When they should have been in bed, I'd catch them in his room eating Circus Peanuts with him. He would play and tease them all the time. Once he asked one of them if they would bring him his shoes so he could put them on and go outside. And he laughed so hard when my son asked him where they were at.

The day we lost him was brutal. The toll it took on my heart was unreal. I always knew his death would hit me hard. I just didn't expect it the way it happened. All his organs started to shut down, causing his death. They never did find the source of the problem before he passed. He was a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) so when he went into cardiac arrest, he was gone. It was a Tuesday, May 26th of 2020. The worst year ever for so many people, myself included.

When my dad went to the hospital, I never would have guessed it was the last time. He'd struggled with water retention and would go to get fixed up and come home. He did this several times. I thought it was just a routine visit like always. He would go and then come home a few days later...like always. Sadly, this was not the case. And if I had known, I would have done things a lot differently. I would have been with him at the hospital the whole time. I would have been there holding his hand as he took his last breath.

But no one can predict the impossible. It took me a long time to accept that fact. Maybe I haven't really accepted it.

My dad was many things. But his best role in life? Being my daddy. He was not perfect. But I wouldn't trade him for the world. He was also Pawpaw, Son, Brother, Nephew, Friend... He was tough, wise, and dependable. He was loved.

I can still hear exactly how his voice sounds. His laugh. I can see his smile and imagine hugging him one more time. Life goes on, but it's never the same. I used to think grief was just the sad period of which your loved one passes away. You just have to get through it. It's so much deeper than that. There's no "getting though it". You endure it. You move along, and a new you begins. The person you were before doesn't exist anymore. You learn to live a life without them. And that, my friends, is the hardest thing I've come to deal with in my life so far.

The old George Jones song reminds me of him. "If you've watched as the heart of a child breaks in two, then you've seen a picture of me without you."