CWA: 12/30/1947 - 9/24/2009

Daddy never really cared for his given name, Cecil Wardell Aycock Jr. Luckily, it was one that could be easily shortened and so most people referred to him as “Dell”. To some he was “Officer Aycock”. To others he was “Stump”. And, to a select few, he was “Gilligan”, "The Skipper" or “Barney Fife”. But, no matter what you called him, one thing’s for sure… He was definitely “one in a million”.

Husband. Father. Papa.
Son. Grandson. Brother. Uncle.
Police Officer. Fireman. Sensei. Mentor. Role Model.
Honest. Loyal. Loving. Compassionate. Humorous. Trustworthy. Happy. Adventurous. Brave. Fun-loving. Fair. Understanding. Forgiving. Patient.

Friend.

I could go on & on.

As much as I’ve wanted to write this, and as many times as I’ve started to… I dread doing it. Simply because, I know I’ll leave something out.

I never knew my dad as a “brother” or “grandson”. The people in his life that referred to him as those things were gone before I was born. However, I can honestly say that I have known him as everything else listed above, and more.

My dad was such a great husband to my mom. Jacob & I never saw them fight. They very rarely got upset with each other. In fact, I can recall only twice in my life that I saw them bicker. Once, I don’t remember the reason, but it ended in laughter. The other time, Dad wasn’t taking his heart pills & Mom was frustrated with him about that- fair enough. He ALWAYS supported her. He encouraged (but didn’t push) her to continue her education all the way through receiving her doctorate. It never bothered him that she made more money than he did; he was genuinely proud of her accomplishments. I’ve seen my parents play together. I’ve seen them be silly. My whole life, as a unit, they worked better together than anyone I’ve ever met. Mama would be better suited to tell you about his role as “husband”, but from where I stood, he had it right.

As a father… well, I couldn’t have asked for a better daddy. My dad loved his children. He was at every band concert, theater production, dance recital, karate tournament, football game, basketball game, t-ball game, etc. that I remember, just cheering us on. He was proud of us. Heck, Daddy even came to all of my Jr. High & High School dances, including prom! Funny thing… I don’t remember him doing the same for Jacob… Hmmm… He taught us that it was okay to be ourselves. We never had to worry about being accepted in our home. Even when we disappointed him, we knew we were loved unconditionally. He played with us- got involved in whatever we were doing. I can’t explain to you what it was like to have him as my dad. I can say this though: I was NEVER embarrassed or ashamed or hesitant to tell people that I was his daughter.

Olivia was the only one who really got to know him as Papa (although, he became “Papa Dell” to us all). He would have done absolutely anything she asked. He had a big hand in spoiling her, I know that much for sure. They spent a lot of time together, due to us living with (or close to) them a good bit. He taught her to fish and to drive a 4-wheeler. They hung out together every day after school. He would pick her up and take her to get a treat and watch her until I got off work. He went to her school play the day I couldn’t take off. She always knew that Papa was there when she needed him. Adelle didn’t get the privilege, but I KNOW he would have loved her just as much.

Dad accomplished more in his lifetime than most of us could ever dream about:
He was a fire fighter for eight years. He used to take us around Hattiesburg & tell us the places he‘d worked fires.
I bet a lot of you never knew that he flew planes. He was working on his pilot license before he took over the family business- Aycock’s Auto Trim.
He ran the auto trim shop in one end of a building and taught karate in the other end. He was my Sensei for a while. He took my older brothers and me to karate tournaments on a regular basis. Did you know that he fought (& technically beat) Bill “Superfoot” Wallace? *Look that guy up if you don’t know who he is.*
He was a constable at Camp Shelby and he worked for the Lamar Co. Sherriff’s Dept.
He was a certified police officer and most recently, he was the school resource officer for Purvis, k-12.

My dad was a mentor. He was a role model. He was the same to everyone he met. There was nothing fake about how he was with people. His kindness and honesty was consistent. Friends of mine have told me that they hated getting in trouble (yes, with the law), because it disappointed him. Kids at the school said that he kept them out of trouble, just be being available in case they needed guidance- someone to talk to. When Daddy was in the hospital, he almost always had guests. The stories I heard made me respect him even more than I already did. People that went to school with him told us that he was friendly to everyone- it didn’t matter to him what “social standing” you had. People who worked with him told us about his work ethic… how he was hardworking, but how he also kept the atmosphere light and fun. Friends of his told us wild stories that I’m hoping my mother will compile into a book someday along with the stories we experienced ourselves. I’ll never forget family vacations to Gatlinburg and Orlando when we’ve heard “Hey, Aycock!” from across the street. Everywhere we went, someone knew him. He was well known, and very well liked.

Daddy appreciated his family and friends and he never took them for granted. He would’ve done anything to protect those close to him. Aside from spending time with loved ones, he enjoyed various past times. He liked to fish and camp and sometimes hunt. He was a fan of John Wayne (well, westerns in general) and COPS. He loved taking us out on the boat and most recently, taking Mom out on his motorcycle. He got a kick out of seeing us all smile and laugh. And so, if you were around enough, you might have just heard an “off color” joke or two.
　
　

Today has been one year since he had to go. It was premature; I don’t really care what people say about it being “your time”. The world (at least our part of it) was not ready to say good-bye.

When we had the wake, there were between 800 - 900 signatures of people that came to pay their respects. I only wish I knew it would be like that for me. I wish that I had made the impact on people that my father made.

I know that there is so much more I should say. When I write about emotional things, however, my mind jumps around from thought to thought and I end up leaving things out. Feel free to leave comments below. Share something about Dad, if you’d like. Forward this page too, if you want. I want people to know that it’s okay, even good, to talk about him. Yes, he’s gone, and yes, life does technically go on, but for some of us, it will never go on quite the same. I don’t miss him any less now, just because a year has passed. I don’t want people to forget this wonderful person…