Ready

Remarks for My Daddy

There’s one word that keeps coming to me as I think about my relationship with my daddy: ready.

I found my father when I was 26 years old. By then, I had my own son, and every time I went to the doctor, they would ask me about my medical history. I knew my mother’s side, but I didn’t know my father’s.

All I knew was the name on my birth certificate: Donald Moore of Kansas City.

Growing up, I had eight uncles who stepped in as father figures. They loved me, covered me, and gave me what I needed. But after I had my son, something shifted. I decided I was ready to know my father.

So in 1994, I went to the public library in Dayton, Ohio, found a Kansas City phone book and started calling every Donald, Don, or D. R. Moore I could find. There were more than 13 of them!

I asked specific questions about 1966, left messages, and eventually went home, cooked dinner, gave my son his bath and started putting him to bed.

Then the phone rang.

On the other end was this big, booming voice:

“This is Donald Ray Moore. Is this my daughter?”

Apparently, Daddy had been getting ready too.

And from that day until his last day on this earth, he was my daddy, and I was his daughter.

For the first time in my life, I was a daddy’s girl.

Now, normally when somebody announces, “It’s a girl!” they’re talking about a little seven- or eight-pound baby.

Daddy got his eldest baby girl at about 230 pounds!

But I was still his eldest girl.

And I made up my mind that day that I was ready to build a relationship with my father and make the most of whatever time God gave us.

Then, on August 7, 2026 I got another call concerning my daddy. This time, his voice wasn’t quite as booming as it had been in 1994.

But the message was just as clear when I hear him say:

“Daughter, I’m ready.”

And I knew what he meant.

The next morning, I got on the road because I needed to say goodbye to my daddy. My sisters elders Vivian and Sherry jumped in shotgun and rolled down I 70 to keep me company.

Surrounded by people who loved him, Daddy made it clear that he was ready. He directed us of his wishes and he was not shy about it. Daddy told Geri to get Khaleesi hair done. He told me to read Psalms 91. He told Markysha to fix his pillow. He told the nurse he didn’t need the VA chaplain because his had his daughter and two other elders in the room and he wanted us to pray. We did. He was dying and he was ready.

God had healed and delivered him through cancer and other illnesses before. But this time, God was going to heal him a different way.

On August 8, after the medical professionals made him comfortable, Daddy slept for a little over an hour. Then he woke up, looked around and said raising his arm and baffled why he was still hooked up and said:

“What? Am I still here?”

We were startled—and then we had to chuckle.

Because Daddy was READY!

And I have no beef with a man who is ready to see the Father.

Paul said in 2 Timothy 4, “I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”

That’s what Daddy showed me in those final hours. He knew his departure was at hand—and he was ready.

I had to be ready to find him.

He had to be ready to receive me.

And when his journey here was finished, Daddy was ready to meet the Father.

So the question his life leaves with all of us today is simply this:

Are we ready?

Daddy, thank you for receiving your grown-up baby girl in 1994.

And thank you for showing your baby girl, one last time, what it looks like to be ready.

Rest well, Daddy.

You were ready and I will do as the word says in 1 Peter 3:15 Be ready at all times to answer anyone who asks you to explain this hope we have in you.