Thoughts of Dad

I’m sitting here in my old bedroom feeling a major case of déjà vu. And yet there are some aspects that are so not the same. Three months and 11 days ago, my mother went to Heaven to meet her babies and family and friends that had gone on before her. Yesterday, she beckoned for Dad to come so they could spend their 57th wedding anniversary together. It will be Sunday, August 5th. He made it with time to spare. That’s so like my dad. Always a little bit early.

I’ve been going through my hard drive on my computer trying to find pictures for a photo gallery (like I did for Mom’s website a few months ago). Just about every picture of my dad looks like it was taken on the same day because his main wardrobe was a light blue shirt and navy pants. Dad was consistent.

I cannot describe the combination of relief and despair I felt yesterday morning when I received the news. Relief because Dad can breathe again. Relief because he doesn’t have to feel useless anymore. But despair because he died alone. Mom had so many family members in the house when she passed on. And Dad was so much more a “people-person” that it seemed unfair for him to leave in the early morning hours with no one around his bed. Despair because I can’t recall much of the last conversation that I had with him. I tried three different days to call him in the last week and each time he was resting so I didn’t want to disturb him. I know I cannot dwell on that. That I have to focus on the conversations I DID have with him. And that in the last year, we have rarely ended a call without an “I Love You.” I have to focus on the fact that we have made an effort to come up often this year even when finances were tight or when we were tired and it felt like we would just get home and three weeks had passed and it was time to pack up and hit the road again. I will never regret any of that. And I know that’s what Dad would tell me…focus on the positive. Because Dad was optimistic.

Dad, I’m so glad you got to make it “home” for your anniversary. I know you’ll be picking mom a bouquet of Sweet Peas for the occasion. We will miss you so much. But knowing that you and Mom are enjoying Heaven and all the glory and splendor makes me long for Heaven a little more. (Maybe someday I’ll write a song about it.) Until then...talk atcha later…love you, too!