When I found out that Dad had passed away, I cried.  Then I rushed to his home, and cried with the whole family.

The next morning, I knew what I had to do.  I had to finish the documentary I had been working on for 14 years, but could never seem to finish.  The task seemed impossible, but I had no choice. 

The funeral was scheduled for Saturday, March 22, 2008, but the interment wasn’t until Monday, March 24, 2008, because the national cemetery does not inter on Saturdays.  I booked the theater for Monday night.

During the next week I had several spiritual experiences.  I woke up at 2:00 am humming a song I had never heard.  I just remembered two words from the dream, “That’s Life.”  I got up and found it on iTunes.  Now I had the ending for the documentary clearly in mind.  I began to find clips and photographs that I didn’t remember having.  And most importantly, my friend Kip Huff had taken the week off for spring break and was able to spend the whole week scoring the film.  I  cannot deny God’s hand in the process (and I’m not the kind of guy that readily sees God’s hand in everything).

The process helped me through a difficult time, as I spent every day seeing my dad on screen and feeling him in my heart.

On Monday, the 436-seat theater was overflowing, and I could not have been more pleased to see that I had actually succeeded in capturing the things about my dad that are so endearing to me–his smile, the twinkle in his eyes for mom, his humor, his sadness in loss, and his joy in freedom.

I am so glad that I was able to share with so many others who my dad was (and is).