I miss you, Dad.


My dad, Rev. C. Max Allman, went to heaven on March 14, 2002.  It’s a day I’ll never forget; every event of his last day, every smile, every conversations we had thank the Lord, seems to be forever etched in my mind.  God saw fit for us to spend that entire day together and I will always treasure that gift from God.

There’s not a day that I’m not tempted to pray for him when saying my prayers and not a day that I don’t think about and miss him.  Heaven is sweeter now that he’s there and my life is much sweeter because he was/is my daddy.

I particularly miss him today and it started as I was making my bed.  You see, Steve had to go out of town so instead of unmaking the entire bed, I very neatly unmade only my side to sleep on.  Because I rarely move during the night, I was able to get up and neatly make up my side of the bed without ever disturbing Steve’s side.  The thought struck me that this is exactly what my mother has done every single morning for the past 10 years.  She neatly turns down her side only to sleep on then neatly makes it back the next morning.

 I have to admit; my heart hurt at the thought of it.

I’ve never known two people more in love than my Mom and Dad…and I can’t imagine how much she must miss him.

One of the things I miss the most about my dad is his sense of humor.  It was…strange at times.  A good strange, though.  It’s an Allman trait, I think, for us to find humor in things that most might overlook or not think funny at all.  It has been passed down to all three of his children and I must say, we have a good time together because of it (although people around us stare…and our spouses sometimes don’t really get us.)

Here’s a prime example this wacky sense of humor:  In the summer of 1975, we took our annual trip to the beach.  We always went to South Myrtle and we always stayed at the “Chateau Bleu” (pronounced “blue” and yes, that’s how it was spelled).  Not as ritzy as it sounds, but it was nice enough.  This particular summer, the big movie hit “Jaws” premiered.  For some reason (a.k.a. weird sense of humor), Dad thought it would be a good idea for us to go as a family to see the movie “Jaws”.  Rob was 13 1/2, I was 9, and Chris was 6.  To put it gently, that movie scared the mess out of us!  From the first scene, we were terrified!  And, as if the movie event wasn’t bad enough, Dad thought it would be a fine idea to head to the beach for an evening swim.  Right…

If he didn’t want to have to watch us while we played in the ocean, he could have just said so…

What’s the problem, kids??

The funny thing is I find my mind going in those directions sometimes with my own kids…hehe.

My dad was always affectionately known as “Max”, although that was his middle name.  That name came from the doctor who delivered him (my grandparents were very creative people…).  But his first name came from an uncle who passed away before dad was born.  The “C” in C. Max Allman stands for “Cletus”.  If you ever wanted to get a true rise out of dad, you just had to call him by his first name.  NOT acceptable.  Certain members of his congregation knew that, yet they loved calling him by his first name (right, Glenda Turner?).  That was fun for us kids to watch because seldom did anyone ever get one over on Max.

Not only did my Dad have a large sense of humor, he also had a huge heart.  He fulfilled his calling as a shepherd to his congregation to the fullest.  I’ll share a story that truly impacted me; sadly I learned it after he passed away.

There was an older couple in our church who were charter members.  To put it mildly, they could be “testy” and could make things tough on him; but Dad always knew how to respond with love-covered authority.  He had the ability to see through the eyes of the Lord, understanding that people sometimes respond out of hurt rather than intentionally being harsh.

When this couple was in their older years, the gentleman became very poor in health and as a result was completely bedridden. His wife was too small and frail to take care of him as she needed to and they didn’t have the money to hire someone to care for him.

Every single day, my father would go to their house, change and bathe and help to feed this gentleman.  That’s every single day until the older man went to heaven.  My father was Jesus with skin on to them.

To say I’m proud to be the daughter of Max Allman would be the understatement of my life.

This world and it’s decline makes me long for Jesus to come because I am so anxious to worship at His feet for all He has done for me.  But I also cannot wait to see my Dad again.

What a day that will be.



About therigginslife

I'm a redeemed, sold-out believer in Jesus Christ, a daughter of the King of kings! My life has been abundantly blessed with an amazing, godly man and three precious sons. If I could sing all day long, I would; but not just any songs move me. I love all sorts of music, but I soar when I'm singing about my Savior. Almost as much as I love to sing, I love to write...so here goes nothin'...

7 responses »

  1. Oh, Robin! You have touched my heart with this one also. My dad left us on the day before my birthday in 1973, after a long and difficult battle with cancer. Dad had a recliner in the living room, and when Mother would walk past it, she would pat him on the shoulder and say “that’s my shoulder.” After he passed away, the first thing she had to get out of the house was that recliner, and it quickly found a new home with a neighbor. Of course, she left us 10 years later, so I’m sure that shoulder is getting lots of pats now! Dad also had a strange sense of humor, not in the practical joke sort of way, but with a play on words, and I’m afraid I have inherited that. Trouble is, often I get met with a blank stare from folks who don’t “get it!” Oh, well… Thanks for this memory, and I hope you won’t have too many of those nights when you unmake only one side of the bed.

  2. You asked me if I could pull up your blog at work and I am glad I couldn’t because I would have had people wondering, why is she crying, must be bad news, since I volunteer at the Cancer Center. What a beautiful picture of a beautiful man. Thanks so much. The bed thing, I wish I only had to strip half the bed, ha. Love you.

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