Miss you Dad

In just over a month – July 28 at 5:40 p.m. to be exact – it will be 10 years since Bill Goffinet passed away. Hard to believe it’s been 120 months.

I miss my dad – think about him constantly and wonder if he’s playing golf every day in heaven with my uncle and other friends. Or if he’s relaxing with Mom since she joined him almost a year ago.

Because it’s Father’s Day I would like to say a few things about my dad. I won’t drag this out because I could write a book.

First, he was a good man. He wasn’t perfect and he never tried to be but he was a good man. Good husband, good father, good Granddaddy Bill and just plain good.

He was one of the best architects in Grand Prairie. He was active in the Grand Prairie Host Lions Club and once served as its president. He was a one-time deacon at Turnpike Church of Christ and always and I mean always, attended everything my sister Gwen and I were involved in.

He loved life and being an architect. Most important he loved us, his family. He stood by us regardless the situation whether good or bad. He never bragged about himself other than “Hmm, told you. Listen to your old man once in a while.”

When I was near death back in 1966 as an 8-year old with Encephalitis he never left my hospital room for almost two weeks. I’m sure last summer when I had major surgery on my leg to remove the cancerous tumor he would have been the first one to the hospital and the last to leave.

And when my sister’s husband left her on ironically, his and mom’s anniversary in 1989, my dad held her hand and did his best to comfort her. And then the time when I made a game-winning catch to help my pee wee baseball team win the division championship he was the first to hop the fence and charge out to right field and give me a hug.

As I grew older my dad’s health began to deteriorate and he became less active. He tried to continue to play golf but couldn’t. He tried other things but just didn’t have the energy.

He developed a muscle disease similar to Lou Gehrig’s and was constantly falling. Numerous times I had to help him off the commode because he just flat couldn’t get off. He was embarrassed because he couldn’t really take care of himself anymore.

I did my best to be there for him – he was always there for me – even if it was just sitting on the couch while he sat in his recliner watching the Rangers. And most of the time he was just too tired to stay awake.

On June 10, 2000, one day after his and Mom’s 50th anniversary we celebrated with a big dinner. Just our immediate family and grand kids. I remember looking at him once and noticing he was soaking it all in and he had a smile on his face. He KNEW it would be the last time we would be all together.

I’ll close by telling you what my last conversation with him was in the hospital. You’ll chuckle.

My dad very rarely said any bad words but when he did look out! The muscle disease was causing him to have kidney problems so after having stents put in on a Tuesday – he would have to have a kidney removed the following day – he was in a lot of pain.

The nurses had to restrain his arms because he was trying to get out of bed. Dad never complained about how much pain he was in but this time was different. My nephew William, who was 12 at the time, and I went into see him in the ICU.

Dad, who was not himself was obviously in a lot of pain asked William if he had his new baseball bat with him. William didn’t have a new bat and looked at me strange. I just whispered to William that Grand Daddy Bill wasn’t himself, etc…

I asked Dad why he wanted William’s bat and he said quote unquote I’m going to kill that son of a (you know what) pointing to the male nurse in the room. The male nurse was laughing and William’s eyes grew big.

Dad was mad because the male nurse wouldn’t let him out of the restraints. Dad slipped into a coma after surgery the next day, suffering a brain stem stroke. We lost him a few days later.

My dad influenced me in a lot of ways, some he knew of, others he didn’t. Happy Father’s Day Bill Goffinet – you are dearly missed but in a better place than we are.