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My father is not a saint, a ghost nor an angel

 

he had jokes, always
He had jokes, always

It’s been a year this week since my daddy left this earth to take up residency inside his mansion in glory. I love to laugh at the thought of anyone thinking Bob Skutt is dressed like cupid, Casper or flying around in angel wings. Y’all, Bob, isn’t fluttering about watching over us!


"Ho Ho Ho it's the Grandmonkey"

My father in costume for eternity is a strong “nope”. One time he dressed like an elf for the Santa float in the Fort Smith Christmas parade. I was too old to think that was cool. It was a tragic day for the offspring. He ran around Garrison Ave. and threw candy while in an elf costume. Photos were taken and distributed about town. One was even framed inside the trophy case at the field house of our beloved Northside High School. I walked past it for years and moaned every time. Never a dull moment with him and I am positive that was the last costume he ever wore on earth or in eternity. It was truly something.


King of the wild frontier

My father is not a saint, a ghost nor an angel, contrary to all the sweet ballads and poems you hear. We don’t die and become those things (spoiler alert!). I hate to rain on your heavenly parade, but that’s just not biblical. He was a saved man, and that is all that matters when we take our last breath. Thankfully, we rest in knowing he met Jesus in an instant that Tuesday afternoon in September in the Smokies. The celebration and noise, oh the noise, that must have taken place in that moment! My father was not a quiet man. He lived loud and the lack of noise without him here is sometimes deafening for all of us. I imagine he is singing at the top of his lungs still to this day and will never stop. I just love that thought.


"I can cool them down when they're smoldering hot"

My father was also not a perfect man. No one is. He had faults and failures like the rest of us. He was human. He loved well though and that is all anyone remembers about him now. We have often said we wish he had known just how loved he truly was. He had no clue. I tear up typing that still to this day. He just lived life and didn’t stop to see the impact he made on so many lives. His joy and compassion splashed about in so many circles and with people we had never met. That was my daddy.

"Up on the housetop reindeer paws..."

I had friends tell me things he had done for them over the years to offer encouragement.  He visited the sick regularly, he prayed with neighbors who were hurting, he lead kids to the Lord, he checked on his friend’s family regularly when that friend was called off to war. On and on…things I had never heard and oh, how they blessed my broken heart! It was inspiring to see how he was quiet in that respect, yet loud in every other moment. He was loved so well because he invested in people when it mattered and not just when it was easy. I wish we could all live more like that.


Sleep in heavenly peace

He is not a saint, a ghost nor an angel, but he was a friend, husband, father, grandfather, brother, uncle, bonus dad, cousin and friend to a host of people left behind who are better because of him. I miss his laughter and encouragement in my life in ways I will never be able to put into words. My friends even say. “I miss your dad” because I sent screenshots of his texts on the daily. They were always epic and full of laughter. One day I might even write a book about all the embarrassing things a dad can do to build character in a daughter. Oddly enough, the embarrassing moments he has left me with have become the most precious memories. Who knew? Life is funny that way. The 40 years and 362 days I had him were the best years of my life. 


Here's to one trip around the sun without him and we made it...there are days that looked real sketchy there at first! 


Abby Jo

Comments

Anonymous said…
Good job mom

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