in loving memory: james roderick dickson

James Roderick Dickson was born on March 12, 1957, to Jeff and Peggy Dickson.
To most of his family, he was known as ROD. 
To most of his friends and colleagues, he was known as SHORTY … which is quite ironic since he towered over most people at 6’9”. 

    But to me … he was simply - & profoundly - DAD.

Dad was a broken soul who seemed lost his whole life. He tried to compensate for that lost brokenness by being the center of attention. He found a measure of joy and significance in being a truck driver. He was a good one, too! When Dad’s health began to make driving his semi a hazard, he retired early and discovered a new passion … woodworking. The debilitating effects of Essential Tremor Disorder prohibited him from building anything ornate; however, Dad took pride in what he built and repaired.

Dad’s life changed radically in 2015 due to a health crisis, but there were glimpses of joy. Trips to Sonic, Tractor Supply, the library or a bookstore … His smiles were genuine on these days. My favorite things about Dad included his love for art and music. I began dabbling with drawing more because he found my art something to enjoy. My dad absolutely loved music. There were only two kinds he liked … old country songs or the old hymns of the church. The few times I heard my dad sing a hymn, I was overwhelmed because we had a rare heart connection with music … and he could actually sing! The last time I heard my father sing was as I sat down to play a simple version of “Jesus Loves Me” at his nursing home. He was the only person to ever sing as I played … That moment was such a rare & pure, organic father-daughter moment that I will forever treasure. 

Hardened by life to protect his own pain, Dad wasn’t always easy to be around; however, the Lord seemed to soften his hurting, angry heart in his final weeks of life. A man who was never at rest seemed to be at peace. Things that had been said or done in the past were confessed … and gladly forgiven. Our final days together were bittersweet and horribly beautiful. 

In the final months of his life, one of Dad’s greatest heartaches was his neglect of his children and family.

Dad was preceded in death by his stepson, William Scott Powell (1998); his father, Jeff Dickson (2000); his beloved wife, Ann Latham Dickson (2015); and his mother, Peggy Dickson (2018). 

Our journey as father and daughter has ended, but my love for him will endure. I will never regret my journey with him. Although it makes no sense, I’ve always been a “Daddy’s Girl,” and I sought my dad out all these years. I pursued him, relentlessly! I’m thankful I did. Dad died November 14, 2021, at 5:13AM. He simply went to sleep and slipped into eternity.

He died knowing he was loved!