The Day My Montana Year Changed Forever

August 17, 2010 will forever be a date that I remember. The day I received the phone call that changed my life forever. The day my dad went to Heaven.

Although I may think that God works in crazy ways at times, I’m so thankful He does. I remember days over the past five months crying out to God wondering why I was here…missing my friends, my family back home, the life I had created for myself. Now, I can picture God sitting up there, crying with me and knowing that there was a greater purpose for my time here. I’m so thankful for His Holy Spirit that helped me be obedient to His call. Although five months simply was not long enough to me; I know it was part of God’s perfect plan. I will forever miss my father but I will not question God’s plan, I will not doubt it. Instead, I will continue to walk the life He has prepared for me; be it full of twists and turns, valleys and mountains, I know my Heavenly Father, and my earthly father, are with me always, guiding me and loving me.

The following are the words I read at my dad’s funeral. I think they provide a good insight into the man my father was, at least the man he was to me.

"My dad and I had a unique relationship. Growing up I’d hear how much I was like my mother. As I got older and began working my ‘big girl’ job, the similarities between my father and I became more evident. My career in planning opened up a door for us to grow our relationship as we shared discussions and interest in building and development.
Every time I came to visit Montana we’d talk about me moving out here but it was never the perfect time.

Things finally came to a head for me in Valdosta and I was ready for a significant change…at the time I just wanted to flee. I called my dad and on the brink of tears told him I needed a change and asked him if I could move out. Immediately, without hesitation, he said yes. By the end of the call I had a place to live and a new job.

Over the weeks I made plans to move out here. Less than one month from my scheduled moving day I realized that I really wanted my dad to drive out here with me. I knew enough to know that traveling to Montana through Missouri and Colorado in early March could be tricky. My dad was a master of driving in sticky situations (anyone who’s visited the Dunham’s house would know that). I knew right away that asking my dad to leave Red Lodge and work for a week might be a tricky sell. So, as my father’s daughter my ‘Proposal’ had to be perfect.

Fortunately for me, Dad read my proposal while enjoying some time at Jake’s Bar and Grill in Billings. After several emails back and forth and his verification that I had satellite radio, heated seats and air conditioner he agreed and offered a rather sweet proposal himself.

Besides getting all packed up, my main responsibility was to map out our trip based on the location of Zagat rated restaurants.

Trip day arrives and after a marathon of packing my overstuffed U-Haul, we hit the road. Our second night we stopped at Justice Café in Smithville, Missouri – recommended by Mo and Cheryl Fowell. My dad was in heaven, loving every minute of our fabulous meal and great atmosphere. Sadly he wouldn’t make it to our hotel before he was hit by a horrible stomach virus, courtesy of his sweet 6 year old grandson. When it came to pain and illness, my dad was an ox and he could push through mostly anything…but this bug had him zapped.

Our third night was to be the Sushi Den in Denver Colorado – one of my dad’s favorites. He was so excited about taking me there but as you can imagine stomach bug and sushi don’t go well together. We went anyway. My dad sat at the table and watched as I enjoyed the best sushi I’ve ever had. Because of his love for me and his desire that I enjoy what he enjoyed he suffered through it.

I know that it was God’s divine providence that I moved to Red Lodge when I did. Although 5 months was far shorter than I hoped for, I’m so thankful for the time I had. I’ll carry the lessons my dad taught me throughout my lifetime and because of him I will be a better person, a stronger person.

A few months ago, my dad sent me a forward about a US Navy Jet Pilot Vietnam who was forced to eject himself from his plane and depend on his parachute for a safe landing. The pilot was captured for 6 years. After his release the pilot and his wife were in a restaurant when I man came up who clearly knew the pilot and the details of the ordeal. Turns out, this was the man who packed the pilot’s parachute. The pilot thanked the man realizing the importance of who this man was and what he did.

All of us have people who pack our parachute. Someone who provides what we need to make it through the day. We all have lots of types of parachutes as well, mental, physical, emotional. When I look at all the people here, I am so thankful my dad was blessed with great men and women to pack his parachute. Although I’ve only been here for 5 months, I know how loved my dad was by so many and I’m so grateful."