My First Blog

So this is pretty far out of my comfort zone, I normally deal with things differently and in my own ways. I have tried for seven weeks now to do it my way, and it still just isn't really working out. I have read a few different "Blogs" and seen different kinds and I have thought to myself no way I would ever do that, no one would want to read what I thought. Then I read one about a brother losing his brother, and it hit me. It isn't for if someone else wants to read it or cares what you think. It's a way to let the tons of emotions we as humans have just trapped inside of us. I didn't know if I would be good at it and quite frankly I still don't, but I' going to give this a go. 

Seven weeks ago everything changed, the lives of my family changed in a matter of moments. "He won't pull through this." The words of a doctor standing over my father in an emergency room on a Monday night in December. Five words. Five words was all that it took to send my world into a spiral. I dropped to my knees and cried harder than I have ever cried, I hurt more than I knew I could ever hurt. I listened to the sobs of my family. All I could ask was Why? Why now? Why him? Why us? People say it's normal to ask those questions, other people say we shouldn't. I try not to ask those questions because I do believe there is a plan thats greater than all of us that each and every one of us fit perfectly within. I cried my tears and punched the floors of that emergency room until I couldn't feel my knuckles anymore (I know, not my smartest moment). I tried and tried to remember the happiest moments I had with Dad to try and stop myself from crying anymore and stop myself from being sad. But the hardest thing was that no matter how happy of a memory I thought of, it only brought more tears to my eyes knowing I wouldn't have another one. 

I'm going to change gears for a minute and just talk about my dad. Daniel Robert Hoy Sr. was the strongest most dedicated man I have ever met. We fought day after day, people joked and said it was because we were the same person. Then that was a joke that would be thrown around normally by my mom during or after an argument trying to calm the situation down. What was once a joke, I realize is now the biggest compliment I could ever receive.  Dad worked harder than anyone I know, and demanded the same from his children. I can't tell you how many times I dreaded getting into his red truck after a football practice in Huntersville, NC because I knew I let another lineman beat me in sprints at the end of practice, or how many car rides back from Bandys High School from wrestling club practice that started silent until I heard is famous "huff" and he began to jump on me about going live with the group of kids that would be easier rather than putting myself with the older group to push myself. At the time I thought he was just being mean and that he enjoyed yelling at me. Little did I know he saw what I could be as an athlete, but what I cherish even more, is the lessons that he was teaching me beyond athletics. He wanted me to become a man. He wanted me to push myself out of any comfort zone if it meant I would be stronger from it, He wanted me to lose with dignity and respect (something that if you know me he had to drill into me all the way through high school), He wanted me to win humbly and figure out what I could do better for next time.

I remember time and time again before every match I would step on the mat and find Dad in the stands, and it never failed, he would always point to his head put his finger on his temple and mouth the word Focus. Dad taught me lessons through sports that I catch myself teaching my athletes now. I catch myself using the same phrases and sayings and I often catch myself thinking "Oh this is why he was so frustrated when I would pull this crap." and I can never help but to laugh. My highest highs and my lowest lows he was always there. I somehow was lucky enough to have that.

Dad was the greatest father anyone could ever ask for. But holy cow that didn't even hold a candle to how great of a Papa he was. My little girl adored her Papa. He loved her relentlessly and could never ever get enough of her. I remember my last conversation with him, he told me just how excited her was to hold his little "puddin". She is three, she still talks about him and asks about him and thats one of the hardest things that I have had to deal with. 

I don't really know how to end this, as I am typing this I know it won't be last. Just remembering him and the good and the bad and realizing the things that he did for me, Things that he is still giving me now, it feels good. I think I am going to change gears one last time, and take just a minute and say THANK YOU. Thank you to every single person that was a part of Dad's life, thank you to every person that made him smile or gave him a memory that he could hold on to. Thank you to the people that reached out and continue to reach out to check on myself and most importantly my family, there are not enough words for me to tell you how incredibly thankful I am for all of you. 

To anyone dealing with pain, going through tough times that sometimes you stop and think you don't know if you can make it through it. The sun will rise in the morning, the pain may be there but so are we. We live to fight another day, we live to fight and fight and fight until we win this battle and we break the pain. Seize each day and win it.

Dad I love you and miss you more than anything, Thank you for what you have made me and thank you for what you gave me. The blueprint to being the best dad.