8.21.21-2.22.13

  written by Dan

 

My Dad died last night.

 

I’d thought about this day for a long time.  I knew it would come one day, and I wouldn’t be there.  But it still came as a shock.

 

I vaguely remember a dream this morning.  We were in Santa Cruz , Krista and the girls, driving south on Highway 1.  It was a beautiful day, full of sunshine.  Then, in my dream, Krista seemed very concerned about something.  The mood changed.  She was trying to tell me something important.  The dream slowly blurred into reality – Krista was waking me up Saturday morning.  My brother was on Skype with bad news – my Dad had just passed away.

 

I tried to pull my thoughts together while Krista was talking with Tom and Dawn.  What happened?  Should I buy a plane ticket?  Should we return for good?  Is everyone OK? 

 

We last saw my Dad in August, the day we returned to the Czech Republic .  A few days earlier he had broken his shoulder.  Not wanting to bother anyone, he had driven himself to the doctor and not told anyone about it.  That was Dad – always generous but never wanting to be a burden.  We were blessed to spend much of the summer with him. 

 

Jack Richard Coyan, “Bud” to anyone who knew him, was one of the kindest, most generous individuals I have ever been blessed with knowing.  I could go on and on about his character, both with his family and friends and in his work, but if you knew him you already know about that.  Dad was one of the “great generation” – he flew bombers in World War II but fortunately for him the war ended a few weeks before his unit was to deploy for the invasion of Japan .  He married Gladys, the love of his life, in 1959.  After her death in 1996, he was very close with us.  He and Rebekah were inseparable buddies when she was a toddler. Later after he moved to Manteca , he and Roxie would disappear into his backyard where they would dig up earthworms together.

 

Dad was instrumental in our missions work.  When we told him our plans for it, he was very supportive.  After we sold our house and everything, he turned his house into a home away from home for us.  He set up a room for Roxie and Rebekah, and insisted that Krista and I stay in his master bedroom while he slept in the guest bedroom.  We lived with him for a few months in 2007 before departing for the Czech Republic , and it was a great time.  He spoiled the girls rotten, and they still have warm memories of that time.  I think he was a little worried for them – being dragged off to a strange eastern European country. 

 

After we arrived, he regularly sent “care packages” to us – mainly for Roxie and Rebekah.  At least once a month, and more often twice a month, we would receive these amazing boxes full of things that we couldn’t get here.  The postage was outrageous – more than $50 a box oftentimes – but he always faithfully sent those care packages.  Some of those boxes meant the difference between a depressing or dark day, and a joyful day.  For the girls, not only getting these little pieces of America (Reese’s PB cups, magazines, beef jerkey, etc.) made a difference, but I think knowing that “Opa” was out there remembering them.  Dad was also our biggest financial supporter, and never missed a month’s support.  More than that, he was our biggest “cheerleader”.  I can’t tell you the numerous emails and Skype talks we had, full of encouragement.

 

In 2008, a new law was passed requiring us to purchase expensive Czech health insurance for the girls.  We were unaware of this law until we went to pick up our annual visas that summer.  The Czech foreign police told us our visas would be denied and we would have to leave the country unless we purchased the insurance within the week.  We didn’t have the money, and didn’t want to ask anyone.  My Dad happened to write to ask how things were going.  I told him what happened, without asking or saying any amount, and within 15 minutes he had transferred $1000 into our bank account with a note “Let me know if you need more”.  He was just that way.  Whenever we would feel alone or questioning our purpose here, we would receive an encouraging email from Dad. 

 

Dad recently asked in an email why God was keeping him on earth so long.  I told him how important he was to us.  Without his support and encouragement, we would have left the mission field a few years ago – probably in 2010. 

 

Dad’s health had been declining recently.  Last summer, Krista and I went to the heart doctor with him.  The doctor gave him the news that his heart was failing, and he needed a new valve and a double bypass.  Dad was told that there was about a 10% chance that he wouldn't make it through, but that if the surgery was successful he could have 5-10 more good years.  He made it through the surgery, but never seemed to fully recover.  He had his good days and bad days.  He had been falling more recently, so a few weeks ago he agreed to stay with Tom and Dawn for a while.  I am so glad he did.  He told me they have been angels to him.  On Thursday, they took Dad out for his favorite food at a BBQ restaurant, and then to his favorite diner for a chocolate malt.  He was feeling pretty good.  On Friday, he took a nap after lunch.  He never woke up.  He died peacefully in his sleep that afternoon.

 

I’d like to leave you with the closing of the final email he sent me, just a few weeks ago.  It really shows the heart of this great man:

Stay well.  Always "look up" for guidance.  I am enjoying my walk with the Lord.  Someday it will be "face to face"!  Just a few hours ago I was thinking, "What if my doorbell rang and when I opened it there was Jesus?"  All I'd be able to say to Him is "Thank you.  Thank you."  There are no riches on this earth that He would want or need.  I wonder if He will be like He is shown in so many of His pictures?

The minute I put my hand in His, I will know that it's Jesus.  I remember like it was yesterday - 1966 when I had a massive heart attack - I reached through a set of doors with my hand.  I felt a hand (His) take my hand and just hold it.  I would know that feeling anytime.  A feeling of peace, security, and no worrying.  That day is coming again for me!  Praise the Lord!

That feeling - it was kind of like how a father would hold the hand of one of his children.  My hand was completely encompassed by His hand.  Like a father keeps tabs on one of his own in a crowd.  I have no worries.  I am just enjoying having Jesus as a friend to keep me in check.

Love to all.  Dad "Bud" "Opa"

 

Goodbye Dad.