Month: July 2025

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You’ve Been Fighting A Long Time, Dad

In Dad’s final days, he shared stories, words of wisdom, and prayers with us that we will carry with us for the rest of our days. I’ve devoted the month of July specifically to sharing so many of these. There’ll be plenty more in the coming months, but not as a daily energy the way that July has been. I’ve needed this sustained time and focus for the grieving process to occur, and it has served its purpose in moving me through some emotions that needed exercise.

Sometime in August, I’ll attempt to find the strength of emotion to share the story of Dad’s dog, Kona, and her visit to the funeral home to visit Dad one last time – – so that she could understand the truth of what happened.

For now, I’m sharing the audio clip urging Dad to release and take the journey to his final destination. I’m also sharing the link to his obituary and slide show of photos. He was buried in his Georgia Bulldog cap that his friend Nick Doster gave him the night before he died, his doctoral robe, the Denny’s Save the Children necktie made by my son from my youngest daughter’s feet that won the national art contest, and a shirt belonging to Ken’s wife’s son.

https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/brunswick-ga/the-reverend-dr-haynes-12415041

Perhaps the greatest comfort we find is that Dad died with his arms stretched Heavenward, reaching for all those who love him, who have been waiting on the other side. We know they were there, reaching down to guide him and to greet him, after all his years of standing in the pulpit sharing with others the gospel and the promise of eternal life we know in salvation.

What a moment. What a life. What a promise!

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Saying Goodbye

In Dad’s final days, we recorded some audio clips that will keep him close to us and help us process this consuming grief we are feeling. My brother and I spent countless hours by his side as he reluctantly shifted his weight from this world to Heaven to be with our mother again, a lot like a kid being dropped off for summer camp who wants to go but keeps coming back for one more reassuring hug before being able to go pick a bunk. His words here are powerful reminders to do things while we still can.

There are lessons on this side in the moment of hearing Dad’s recorded words spoken, but there are the realities of this on the other side, once a person has left this world, in seeing so many things that did not get finished. We see it in the unfinished projects, the bookmarks, the tasks, the notes, and the paperwork. My brother stood in the shed last weekend and held up an ornate wooden spindle: for the stair rail we were going to refinish back in the 1980s, he explained. It struck me in a visual way when I walked in his kitchen and saw the Lazy Susan still on the counter, covered in shot glasses that were filled with his medicine doses. That’s how he organized his medicines for the week. I gave it a spin and watched it whirl, then slow, then stop.

Then, I discarded each pill and stacked the glasses in the box I was packing to be donated, wondering where each would land beyond its purpose here in the grand scheme of their own lives as medicine cups before I moved on to the next counter and the cabinet after that and the shelves after that.

How quickly a life shuts down and the physical space once occupied becomes a hollow cavity. A dumpster. A donation box. An estate sale. A few memorable pieces tucked into the folds of our own homes as reminders that what matters truly are the memories – – not the stuff.

no one leaves this world

feeling like they’re finished with

all that needs doing

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He’ll Haunt Them

In Dad’s final days, as he explained the speakers’ directives for his funeral, he told me it was my job to tell them that he would haunt them if they went over their allotted time. My brother explained why that might not be such a good idea.

even in heavy

moments we found some laughter

in the love of friends

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End Zone Ball

In Dad’s final days, he was full of metaphors about life experiences and advice. Here, he shares what to do when we fumble the ball, after referencing the iconic high school yearbook photograph of him in the end zone, midair, arms up, eyes focused, reaching for the football.

The Plays You Fumble

you can’t catch every

pass but it doesn’t matter

the next play matters

when you drop one, you

get another chance

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Not Enough Left

In Dad’s final days, he tells us stories. In this moment, he admits that he doesn’t have enough left. He realizes the end is very close. We assure him that we are not disappointed in him, that we are proud of him, and that we love him. While these are painful moments to relive, they help tremendously in the process of grief. I’m so grateful to have our voices of togetherness recorded so that they will always remain close and just a click away when I need them most.

Not Enough Left Nonet

no one was disappointed in Dad

when he didn’t have enough left

he’d been fighting a long time

and had lost too much strength

to go on living

we assured him

we loved him

and were

proud

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The Value of TIME

Even though the days leading up to Dad’s death had some tears along the way, the laughter and the honest moments discussing the fine arts of bodily business got us through what could have been much sadder times. My brother and I found such humor in Dad’s way of putting things. He was a man of words, often high-brow words that no one else in the room knew, but every now and then he’d throw out a zinger of a word that left no question about its meaning yet still raised an eyebrow because it was so unexpected. The Reverend Dr. Wilson Felix Haynes, Jr., our dad, was a man who could talk backwoods Georgia slang and discuss the finer points of art by Michelangelo with layered meanings in scripture in the same 5 minute conversation, in which we also discussed the value of TIME.

Today, I share an acrostic poem inspired by the recorded conversation above.

On the Sculpting of David

T here’s an angel

I n this rock,

M ichelangelo

E xplained

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Dad’s Love for Our Mother

In Dad’s final days, he shared words about his love of our mother with us. We are grateful to have had parents who loved each other their whole lives. In this conversation and in the audio clips we share today, we find great peace. Dad knew where he was going, and he knew he would be with her when he arrived. We’re confident today that he is there and that they have been reunited. In our grief, this brings us the greatest joy!

she was the love of

his life ~ Miriam Jones Haynes ~

as he was of hers

Here, he explains how he rejoins her now.

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Springs of Elim

In Dad’s final days, we gathered audio clips to preserve his stories, prayers, and words of wisdom. In today’s clip, he shares about one of his favorite topics – The Springs of Elim – and how they worked in his own life.

fresh Springs of Elim

waters of restoration

reviving the soul

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Merita Bread Speed

In Dad’s final days, he shared stories that my brother and I listened to and recorded as he told them. Here is one about how fast he was in his younger days:

He Wore His Fast Shoes

his mama told him

to go get a loaf of bread

his cousin Porky

said Felix flew out

the door and was back before

the door even closed

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SHINE

In Dad’s final days, he shared stories with us. I recorded them, and my brother and I are celebrating these memories and stories throughout the month of July. In today’s audio clip, Dad shares an acrostic he has written in the middle of the night using an acrostic from the Bible verse Matthew 5:16, “Let your light so shine before men……” using the word SHINE. Here is Dad’s middle-of-the-night acrostic poem:

Dad’s SHINE Acrostic

Set goals

Hang tough

Invest wisely (it’s not money….it’s time)

Nurture others

Empathize

He says the Jim Valvano speech is the best ever, and that we should all listen to it, so I’m linking it here: https://youtu.be/HuoVM9nm42E. Today, in memory of Felix Haynes and Jimmy Valvano, let’s all go out and laugh and think….and cry.