Dad

A week ago today, I enjoyed a long overdue chat with my dad. I had called to thank him for the birthday email he sent me and then we got to talking about work, family and faith -- fairly routine topics for us. He was looking forward to seeing his grand kids over the weekend while helping my brother's family move from South Carolina to Chicago. My schedule has been solidly booked out the past month with few moments to simply shoot the breeze. I'll be forever grateful I patiently soaked up every minute of our hour-long conversation.  I'm missing dad's voice right now.

As I was settling into another extended evening of work last night, I noticed that my brother had called twice. Seeing a third call from him, I picked up to hear he was headed for the hospital because dad suffered a massive heart-attack. Encouragingly I said all would be OK and it was good he was going to be with mom and to give dad a blessing. Hanging up, I said a quick prayer, but didn't feel prompted to ask for dad's healing -- instead I prayed for peace and to accept the Lord's will. Minutes later mom called to tearfully say, "Sorry to tell you this, your father has passed away." I cried. Ending the call, I dialed my brother again to relay the news. He cried.  Eventually I connected with my sister and we cried. My heart hurts right now, but I do take comfort knowing that the Lord's promises are sure and I'll see dad again.

Dad always said the Navy changed his life. It was there he learned how to work hard, feel what it means to be part of a supportive team, and explore the rich cultures and diversity the world has to offer. While I know he had regrets, I'm personally indebted and grateful that he left the Navy to help with problems at home, leading to a courtship with mom and the eventual appearance of yours truly.

I'll always remember the times he read books at bed time, playing catch in the backyard, cross-country road trips, HUNDREDS of hours spent supporting me at basketball practices/games, digging out and fixing fence posts - leveling them with string so everything lined up straight, learning algebra at the kitchen table on a whiteboard, hearing his faithful testimony in every conversation, DVD shopping at Costco, watching all 10 seasons of JAG together, and feeling his constant support and love throughout my life. Often not with himself, he was always encouraging me, my brother and sister to spread our wings and fly as high and far as we could go.

Speaking about death, dad often shared the analogy of a sailing ship that left its harbor. Crowds would line the shore crying sad farewells to their loved ones who did the same. Although goodbye was difficult, there were cheering crowds waiting for loved ones as the ship arrived at its destination. How lovely that homecoming must be.

It's comforting to envision the sweet reunion he is having with his parents, grandfather and brothers. It's also melancholy to know he won't be here to see my kids grow up, but I trust he'll send 'good ones' down to me when the time is right.  God be with you dad, til we meet again...