Aloha Oe

Most of those who read this blog are probably already aware that my father, Don Robert Dowdle, passed away in the early morning of December 19, 2015.  It came as a shock to the whole family, as Dad had always appeared to be so healthy.  None of us knew that there was anything wrong until he had been called home.

One of the things I will always remember is the way that Dad taught me when I had done something wrong in my younger years.  As a child, the worst words that I could hear Mom say were that she would have to talk to Dad when he came home.  I was, of course, never afraid of my Dad; but I was afraid of disappointing him.  And even Dad's disappointment was always tempered with heavy dosages of parental love.  No matter how many times I disappointed him with poor choices, Dad simply refused to stop loving me.  He simply refused to give up on helping me to become the man he wanted me to be.  In all this, Dad showed me the way of my Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son.

While others spend their retirement golfing or traveling, Dad spent his retirement playing with and caring for his grandkids.  To be truthful, I wanted him to spend some more time doing those other things.  I wanted him to travel, to do things with close friends, to take up a new hobby, etc.  But I was wrong.  As soon as Dad was gone, I found myself feeling so much gratitude for every second that he had been able to spend with those little ones.  I found myself grateful that he didn't spend time on the golf course or spend more time traveling.  Dad understood what I did not: Relationships matter infinitely more than recreation.  And he spent his time accordingly.

When Dad traveled, he did so for family.  During these last few years, Dad's trips were to places like Peachtree City, Georgia; Montgomery, Alabama; and Fort Worth, Texas--not your usual list of destination travel sites.  But for Dad, these were destinations because they were homes for his children.  Twice a year for three years, I was privileged to spend two days driving either to or from Texas with Dad.  We drove through a lot of small towns and barren locations, and we were always tired at the end of the drive, but the hours were always enjoyable.  The first time we went, I took a lot of CD's and things, expecting that we would listen to a lot of them.  I quickly learned that I didn't really want to listen to them because this was a rare moment where I could just talk with Dad.  What a waste those hours would have been if we had spent them listening to books on CD!  And so we just talked and joked and shared things with each other.  I learned a lot from Dad on those trips.

I miss my Dad a lot.  At times it is still hard for me to accept that he is gone and that there won't be any more trips to and from Texas.  But I am cheered and comforted by the understanding of where he is, what he is doing, and who he is with.  Dad is where I want to be one day.  And he showed me the way to get there--which is to follow the Savior.

Brett