He said, "you tell that Bill to have a good game."

My father died last year. In a few weeks it will have been a year. He became sick suddenly. He was always such a work horse in his garden, even at 83 years old. My husband and I went to visit him Friday morning. He had been admitted to the hospital the night before with a bad blood infection. He lay dozing in his bed. I leaned over to kiss him, he spoke to me. My husband squeezed his hand. My brother and sister arrived and we all gathered in his room. We knew our daddy was a sick man. If he wasn't talking constantly something had to be wrong. We stayed until the early afternoon. We had a football game in Nashville and we had to get home to travel with our team. As we said our goodbyes to everyone, I told my daddy I loved him and we would be back tommorrow. He held my hand, "you tell that Bill to have a good game tonight." I could not believe he knew or was even able to remember. I fought back the tears and told him I would. As our daughter is cheering and our son playing this year, it is very special. My husband was remarking about wondering if my parents would be there. If my mother was still alive, wild horses could not have stopped her from making sure they were in the stands. I know the Lord is surely letting them watch our children enjoy this football season. I feel my mother's fire and excitement and I can hear my daddy telling everyone around him about his grandchildren. My daddy died the next day. He went to sleep and went to Jesus to join my momma, but every Friday afternoon, I can just hear him telling anyone who will listen, "that's my granddaughter cheering, the one who looks like her mother, (but really doesn't) and that's my grandson number 22." Afterall, they have the best seats in the stand.