A Tribute to my dad, Wade Franklyn Cook
Your death was such a shock. And after nearly 39 years, I still have trouble grasping that you died so suddenly and unexpectedly. You were so big and strong. And you had such presence! People were drawn to you. I recall folks saying that you were always the same, no matter whom you were with or where you were. I still admire that quality about you, and know that that was one of the reasons people liked you so much.
I learned so much from you. Somehow, in the eleven short years I was your son, you found a way to teach me some very important values. You taught me priorities and the importance of putting God first and family second and everything else after that. You taught me the value of telling the truth and that “honesty is the best policy.” You showed me love of country and what sportsmanship meant. You modeled class and respect. You also showed me how to have fun and how to take risks and to be bold.
The example you set for hard work has never left me, and I know that I learned to work hard by watching you. I am teaching my own children this same value, although I think that I am teaching them that men can also contribute inside the home, something that you and most men of your generation were proud to dismiss. You bragged that you never changed a diaper; I brag that I changed thousands!
I loved how you used to put out your hand at the kitchen counter when we were all there together. You would make us put our hands on yours and you would say something great about how important we were. These times did make us feel special. I recall one evening when you called me up to your room. You told me that someday soon the two of us would do something together. How I longed for that day.
I have spent many years trying to figure out all that happened, or didn’t happen with our relationship. I know that I wanted more of you and your time than I received. I know that I often felt worthless as a boy. I didn’t understand why you did not want to do things with me when you were around. I did not want to be like you when I grew up.
But as I look back now I see that I was self-absorbed and full of self-pity, and that I let that seep into my life in many ways and for too many years. Now I understand that you had enormous responsibilities and pressures, and that you were struggling just like I do now. Your life was cut short before you could work through them and resolve them.
Forgive me dad, for not honoring your memory by attacking life boldly and confidently at all times. And, forgive me for not thanking you for all the sacrifices you made for me. However, I am grateful for the lessons you taught me and the character you helped to forge within me.
I forgive you for not spending enough time with me. I have learned that you gave me what you could. And I have learned that what I received was good enough. And looking at the values I just mentioned, it was pretty good indeed.
I love you. Your son, Bill
