Some knew my dad as a great football player - he was Terry Bradshaw's tight end at Louisiana Tech and then drafted by the Atlanta Falcons, some knew my dad as CEO of the hospital where he worked, and some knew my dad as their Sunday School teacher at our church...
But to me, my dad was just my dad. He was my hero.
When I was 19 my parents took the family on an amazing trip to Hawaii. On the first day,
my father and I went out snorkeling at Hanauma Bay.
We were having an unbelievable time when, all of a sudden, we got caught up in a rough spot known as Witches Brew.
My father started yelling for help and before I knew it, he was under water. I tried to save him, but I couldn't overpower the water, and he literally died in my arms.
It went from being one of the best days of my life to the worst.
A few hours later, we were back in the condo and I was trying to make sense of what just happened. At that moment my mother came into the room and handed me a letter from my father.
Unbeknownst to me, he had been working on a letter to us children and had just finished it prior to the trip.