Yesterday Jana’s dad passed away.

Mike Scaggs.

He’d been sick for some time.

Although some comfort can be found in the fact that he’s no longer in pain It’s still not fair.

He was 53 years old.

Jana’s Christmases and Thanksgivings will never be quite the same.

Our baby will know him only through the stories we tell.

And we won’t have any pictures of him holding our baby.

Mike was a big guy.

Tall, broad shoulders, and smile nearly as wide.

He was thin. A Quarterback not a Linebacker.

Literally.

He still holds several football records at his high school.

Being an athlete, a coal miner, and generally active guy it was doubly cruel when he was stricken with a rare and incredibly aggressive form of multiple sclerosis.

It took only two years for the disease to completely immobilize him.

Still those that knew him are at least thankful that it happened quick. Mike couldn’t stand the thought of being helpless. Trapped in his own unresponsive body.

For what it’s worth … we are all relieved that his pain, frustration, and fatigue are over.

I remember the day I asked him for permission to marry his daughter.

You see when Jana and I were serious enough that we knew getting married was on the horizon I told her I would need to talk to her dad before I ever asked her.

A lot of people don’t bother with that these days, but the way I figured it, the whole thing about the father walking the bride down the aisle indicates that the couple has his blessing. That being the case I should probably make sure we had it.

So not surprisingly Jana had been taking me down to Petersburg quite often, giving me every opportunity to talk to him. And I would not do it. I wanted my proposal to be a complete surprise so I certainly wasn’t going to give her any idea I had talked to him.

I called him one night , told him I’d like to talk to him, and could I come down to visit. Now Petersburg is at least two and half hours away from my house so at that point he had to have some idea what was up. He suggested that we meet half way.

So late that night, while Jana was at work, I met Mike in a Denny’s somewhere in Bloomington. And as Mike liked to say got his daughter “for a sixty nine cent cup of coffee.”

For the record though I also had chicken strips so I actually had to lay out something like four dollars in order to win Jana’s hand.

All joking aside it was, of course, the event itself that was important. In my mind it was just the right thing to do. A simple respectful gesture to the family I was hoping to become a part of.

But it was more important to Mike than I had known at the time.

And aside from cementing what was already the beginnings of a great relationship with the Scaggs family … I gained a deeper insight into who mike was.

We shared a few important beliefs in what, to us, was just plain right.

Our families weren’t all that different apparently.

One of the many reasons I feel so much a part of theirs… and I hope they feel of mine.

He was Jana’s dad.

Which is, I’m sure, at least one of the many reasons Jana is the person she is.

For that I will be forever thankful to Mike.

Mike was able to walk Jana down the aisle - and I will forever be glad for that.

I will forever be grateful for that late night hour and a half trip to Denny’s.

Because I knew that walk wasn’t simply ceremony.

It was real.

There’s no doubt he will be greatly missed.

I am glad however that he’s no longer in pain. No longer chair bound.

Whatever the check-in procedure is for the after life I can’t help but picture Mike strutting up to the counter and ringing the bell.