That’s what they told my father the night they tried to reach down his throat
and pull all his faith and wisdom and pride and courage right out of his chest.

One care-free night after church, my party-of-five family went for dinner and strolled into an armed restaurant robbery.

Funny how nightmares can stick for years, but memories turn so quickly to fuzz, and remembering what actually was is tough because it hurts so much.

They smiled while we sat silent and tear-soaked in the face of their guns.
They wanted to make my Dad be small so that they could feel big.

But my Dad is the biggest man I’ve ever known.
He was big enough to fight that guy and big enough to know not to try.
And he’s just as big now as he was that day, when he knew – no matter what they say – the best thing he could do was pray.

Those guys wound up landing in jail, and I lived to tell the tale.

Thanks for being my hero, Dad