Scott McBrayer headline
From time to time, we all get a phone call we will never forget. For me, the call was from my mom on Wednesday, Aug. 28. She called me late that afternoon at work, and I knew immediately by her voice that something was wrong.
She was calling to tell me my dad had been killed in an accident. He had been working on his lawn tractor, and it fell on him. When Mama came home from work, she found him, and at age 66, he was gone.
She called 911 and then called me. I don’t remember a lot about the call, but I remember hearing the sirens over the phone as they were arriving.
My dad was a true hero of mine. He taught me so many things about life and served as a great example to me and my sister. He and my mom started dating when she was 14. They called it “church dating” because all they got to do was sit beside each other in church. Daddy was 19 and Mama 17 when they married, and they were still in love after 47 years.
Several years ago for Father’s Day I wrote him a letter thanking him for all the things he had done for me and for our family. He did all the things a good dad would do, teaching me to play sports, to work hard, to be honest and to always be kind to others.
But I also told him in my letter the thing I appreciated most about him was the way he loved and treated my mom. I can still see Mama and Daddy standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes together after my sister and I had gone to bed. I used to sneak out of bed and watch them laugh and talk at the end of the day.
There is no way I can write in this small article all the great memories I have of my dad, but during this time of Thanksgiving, I am so grateful to have had a dad who was so loving and kind.
I realize I’m not the only one who has had to go through an experience like this. Many of you reading this article have lost a parent or a child or someone very close to you. And you know all too well the heartache and void that is left.
When I was a little boy, my dad went to work very early in the morning before daylight. Each night I would remind him to wake me up before he left so I could watch him leave. Just as he was almost out of sight, he would touch his brakes three times — our code for “I love you.”
The Sunday before he died he and Mama came by to visit on their way home from spending the weekend with my sister. We had a great visit, and I can still see him smiling and touching his brakes three times as he drove off for the last time.
This has been tough, and I’m so grateful to all of you who have been helping us during this time. The cards and letters are so meaningful to me, and I appreciate so many of you who came to Columbus, Miss., for the visitation and then to Louisville, Miss., for the funeral. Having friends around us was such a comfort, and we will never be able to thank you enough for the sweet way in which you remembered our family and my dad.
