In an effort to not bury the lead, my father, Kent is in rough shape now. He had a very serious stroke Wednesday evening. Eventually, he was airlifted to Iowa City and we’ve been here since. His right side completely shut down. Following a procedure, he did recover some movement on the side and the ability to speak a few words. But there is going to be too much to overcome.
We have cried, laughed and reminisced and will continue to do so until the Lord calls him home.
Kent loved to fish. I’ve always maintained he was a full-time fisherman and part-time farmer.
Calling him independent is an understatement.
In a testament to his fishing, hit like if you’ve gone with him before. Or talked with him before. Or played golf at the Country Club, played at the baseball or softball complex, swam in the pool, worshipped at ALC, watched cable, talked on the phone or attended school in Jesup. He had his hands in all of those places.
He’s given countless hours to service to organizations.
Now we have countless memories to hold in these final moments.
This photo was from our Christmas a couple of weeks ago. He sure loved those grandkids and many others love him.