Life has a way of changing your perspective. I’ve never lost anyone this close until now. Death has never been quite so intrusive. Even when it is expected and brings a sense of relief that the loved one is no longer suffering, their loss still leaves a huge void. And you would almost wish them back from heaven, if only to hear their voice once more. My dad would have smiled to see the honor and tribute paid to him at his funeral. He would have joined us in singing some of his favorite hymns – “In the Garden” and “Because He Lives” and “How Great Thou Art.” He would have loved hearing his grandsons sing “Heaven Song” (by Phil Wickham) knowing that the song reminded them of him and his devotion to God and His Word. The song starts like this:
“You wrote a letter and you signed your name I read every word of it page by page…”
That was my dad’s legacy. He was known as a man of the Word.
I wonder, considering how much he loved music, what songs he is singing in Jesus’ presence even now. I would love just one glimpse into what he is seeing. Ah, Daddy…how much I miss you!
I’m trying to adjust, to keep busy. But right now I’m mostly coping. Been fighting a cold and sinus headache for several days, but it is finally on the mend. We took our boys to the airport this week for their flights back to California. We are becoming very familiar with that airport run. Today was back to work for all of us, and I got quite a bit accomplished.
I’m working on a speech/class I’ll be teaching this weekend at a mini ACFW Conference in Jackson, Michigan. And I got several chapters read aloud on the book that is due in December.
The cats moped around last night and today, missing their boys. I assured them that they will be home for Christmas, but cats don’t listen very well. Christmas seems rather distant to me right now. I’m a little jealous that my dad gets to spend it with Jesus.
I won’t labor overlong on such melancholy posts, but it has only been a week, so please forgive my reminiscence. It’s been one of the most difficult weeks of my life. I will miss the weekly visits to the nursing home, and McDonald’s coffee with my dad. I already miss his ready smile and the way his eyes would light up every time I walked into a room. How he would sit with a contemplative look and just a hint of a smile while he listened quietly, watching his family with love. He did enjoy his family – each and every one.
And we enjoyed him too. Each and every minute with him. Those minutes and weeks are different now as we adjust to our new normal without him. And I know we will.
It will just take time. In the meantime, I hope you don’t mind indulging my occasional reminiscence. Great men ought to be remembered.
