Fathers...

This is my father. His name was Joseph Henry Foster. I'm named after him, the 3rd in our family to proudly share this name. 

This is the greatest man I've ever known, and today, on this most very special of days, my thoughts are of him, and I'd like to share with you the reasons why...

Many of you, my friends that have known me for many years already know some of what I'm about today, most of you are not, and I feel that is something I'd like to share, and to tell you about the kind of man he was...

All of my life - all of it - every moment, all I have ever known of this man, is someone who was devastated and ravaged by an illness - Emphysema, the touch of Satan, is what I call it. 

What is Emphysema ? Emphysema is a disease that destroys the tissues needed to allow normal lung functions. Simply put, the man could not breathe. He the capacity of 1/3 of one lung, my entire life. 

He got this because, when he was younger, his idol was the "cool" James Dean, who walked around with a cigarette permanently hanging out of his mouth, as he and his friends tried to emulate. They were not aware of the dangers or damage of smoking. Awareness was not what it is today. He did not learn any better until it was far too late...he tried, but it was too late....my mother, thankfully, was able to give up that wicked habit. Thankfully, as a boy, seeing what it did to my Father, I had no problem finding mom's pack, and flushing every last of those cancer sticks down any nearby toilet I could find. She was so mad, but I didn't care. Every time she would yell at me, I would cry, but I kept doing it. I never stopped until she gave it up, for good. Thank you God !

Back then when I was a boy, just coming into this world, things were not the same as they are today. Hospitals were not kind to children, my earliest memories were spent in these cold, unfeeling places, being smuggled in my big brother Brian's jacket just to even be able to fight for the right to see my own father...

On another occasion, I remember Brian and his friends made a human ladder, that I climbed to stand on top of their shoulders, to be able to look into a 2nd story window, just to be able to see my father's face, and wave, to tell him I loved him...he and my mother saw me, completely surprised, and probably wondering how EXACTLY I was able to get up there. I remember seeing my fathers face, in that hospital bed, completely LIGHTING UP seeing me, and he smiled, and waved as the bigger boys were just able to hold me up long enough, then set me back down.

I didn't want to leave...I wanted to see my Dad...

There were so many other occasions like that, that during my lifetime, I have truly lost count...I've seen enough hospitals to last 10 lifetimes... 

I say the things I tell you now, because I would like everyone to know, that despite the odds he was given, this is a man, that, in my entire lifetime, never complained, never cursed his life, or blamed God, or felt sorry for himself ONCE. 

Not ONE word. EVER. Before God, I swear to you, I never heard him utter one word of complaint...

Every single day of his life was a battle. A struggle to survive. Every step he took, every move he made, was a war - just to be able to have the ability to BREATHE !

He had EVERY reason to give up! To quit. To reject the beauty of LIFE, but he NEVER did ! That was NOT an option! His strength and determination, and his WILL to live, would NOT allow it...

I tell you this, that despite his condition, this is also a man, that during the blizzards and harsh winters in New Jersey, battled through this crippling condition, to will himself be out in the field, to provide EXCELLENT Surveying responsibilities for his company, and to be able to provide for his family, and put food on our table. 

Despite all of this, this man was so highly regarded in his company, the owner of the company wrote him a personal letter telling him that he was the BEST employee he had, and that he could never be replaced. 

You see, as the years passed, the weather became a little harder than he could bear, so to help his health, he and Mom decided to pack up and to head for the Sunshine State, and ultimately Spring Hill.

A funny side story, how that they chose Spring Hill, a decision that would ultimately shape my own destiny...

During their search for a home, and I remember this vividly, we were driving around for hours, trying to, as he always did - survey the landscape. They both wanted me to have the very BEST of everything. Everything had to be PERFECT  to raise their family. They wanted to have a beautiful place to live, but it also had to have good schools, and a friendly community to live in. These things were constantly on their mind. 

So, in their search one day, we were driving for what seemed like hours...and as time passed, Nature had it's own way of calling, and as I smile sitting here typing this, Dad had to go "commune with nature" so, they parked the car at the top of a large hill, with what seemed like a perfect view.

I remember putting down my Cracked magazine and Nutter Butters and getting out to stretch my 8 year old legs to go look around for myself, and that's about when we ALL saw it !

I heard my Mother's voice first ! "Joe, look! A RAINBOW !" While I do know my Father was busy, off in the distance, I remember hearing him acknowledging that he had heard her too.

It would seem so, because once we all got back in our trust green Dodge, (I loved that car, the back seat was my own personal playground, littered with Star Wars toys, comics, and Nutter Butters, what more could a kid ask for - the new plan, was for us to FIND THE END OF THE RAINBOW !

I WANT to say I even heard Dad, and let me tell you, this man had (despite his condition) an AMAZING voice, singing "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" as we happily set off for our destination, which, as fate would have it, would wind up being Spring Hill - a place I have called home since that very day, in 1978.

Years passed, and as he got older, his condition deteriorated, he - as he always did, made the very best of it as best as he could, by engrossing himself with two of his other loves, his Bible, and his great passion for the game of Baseball.

My father....I don't know anyone who ever loved baseball more. He knew everything about every team, every player, all the stats, you name it. He had actual encyclopedias and telephone book sized books about it on his tables by his bedside. Bibles and Baseball. That was my Dad. 

During my younger years, I know, it was his fondest wish to see me succeed as a player, and he did everything he could to encourage it. Only years later, did I come to understand, that no matter what I did, he would support it just the same. Still, baseball was his greatest love...

Many of my friends knew him. He would come to the games, and while he was not able to take part, as desperately as he wished to, (our games of catch would involve him throwing his glove at the ball if I made a bad throw, though, I do remember seeing him jump to catch it once...I felt so horribly for that...I can still see it in my mind all these years later..he did try to be involved in any way he could, to offer tips to the other kids, to keep score, to offer a friendly word, a hug, or be a friend to talk to, or to give advice, or sometimes, to just be a caring listener and supporter. 

I tried baseball for a few years, but it was never really my thing. I tried football too, and liked that better. Music was more my thing. Flash forward a few years, I remember the day I told him that I no longer wanted to play baseball.. That was his dream. I never wanted to hurt him, but I was so afraid he would be crushed...I don't know how I could have been so selfish. I know I must have hurt him that day........

But, to his credit, he just smiled and said it was okay, and it was my decision to decide what I wanted to do. And this, was a man who ALWAYS was a man who said exactly what he meant, and meant what he said - a motto I live by to this day...

I will never forget the day that he demonstrated this kind of complete, warm, and unselfish love for me....we were driving, for what seemed like an eternity...I asked Mom and Dad, "Where are we going?" and of course they would NOT tell me...Mom just kept saying, "It's a SURPRISE!" My family, we're BIG on "It's a SURPRISE!" kinda stuff...

So, I sat back, with a huge smile on my face, perfectly, blissfully oblivious to what was about to take place..

The car stopped.

I look out the window...my smile turning into the hugest grin I could have ever imagined....

Here we now were, parked directly outside...

of Thoroughbred Music....

Blinking, excitedly, confusedly, I could barely ask..."Why are we here...???" 

And I remember hearing those words....

"Go...choose"

.......... ???

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Flinging the door open, I raced inside, happily cheering my ass off and picked out my first real piece of musical equipment, a Fender P bass. Because of their love, I was able to make so many wonderful memories with that guitar (including 40 foot tall chickens???)...I still have it, and cherish it to this day...

I remember years later, playing my first "concert" at the school. To me this was the BIG time. I made it ! He wanted to support me so badly. Mom was there, in the audience, cheering her son, but, try as hard he did, he was took sick to be able to go, but, we did videotape it for him so he could see it, and I remember, even though we were terrible, he watched it, cheering as loud as he was able to, acting just like our Bucs just won the SuperBowl. As we sat there on the couch, watching together, he smiled, crying, wiping away tears, and hugged me, and told me how amazing I was.

I believed him. I loved him, and I knew he loved me. He gave up on his dreams, and supported mine.

He loved me, and supported me, in everything I did. That's what kind of man he was.

That's a life lesson that I tried so hard, and patiently waited for, to never forget, and, to one day, try to emulate, in his memory.

Ultimately, after years of fighting with every ounce of strength in his now frail body, and displaying super human ability to to endure it all, he lost his battle with this horrific illness.

To this day, I still feel remorse about not growing up to be a better person, or to have listened to all the life lessons he tried to teach me, or to have listened to him more, and listened to the things he tried to say.

What I would not give, to be able to share things with him today, to learn from his incredible wisdom and spirit. To try to learn what it means to be a REAL man, a quiet, gentle, Christian man, like him.

I swore, that, as I watched, up on that hill at football practice, seeing him stand there, smiling approvingly at me, with an ice cold glass of Gatorade just waiting for me to cool off with - like he had for me after every practice, that I would someday get the chance to try to be a man, like he was, and to show someone how much I care, and to try to be the best person they could be, like he did for me. I wanted to be THAT kind of father...

Now, with God's kindness, I finally got that chance, and every day, my eyes awaken as a blessed man.

I have my own amazing daughter now. He would have loved you Celena. I know he does now. He would adore Kayla. He would have loved all of you, my amazing family. In my mind, and my dreams, I have often wondered what that would be like...warm and beautiful thoughts, so painful to think about, fill my heart....

Dad, we speak often, so I know that you have already heard me tell you this - I know now, that no matter how long that I may live, I will never be you, or be able to possess your strength and spirit, but just know I will never give up trying to succeed, and to live my life by your example. I will always try, and I will never give up. I will always find a way...like you did.

I may not have been listening then, but I am learning, and with every day that passes, I will always try harder to learn and do more, to be a good man that you could be proud of, and to show you the honor you have always deserved to receive from me....

I never forgot the last thing you told me was, and that's something I now, will always do. I heard you my father....

Until the day comes when we're together again, just know, as Jesus knows, we love you, always.

We haven't forgotten, and will always remember the man you were, and the man you are in my heart.

My Father, my protector, and my best friend, you forever remain,

Your Son loves you....

Joe