Four weeks ago, my world was turned upside down. As I have arrived back home now, I am grateful
to begin seeing some of my dear, sweet midwestern friends and family, and I have been
greeted with the infamous, “How are you?” question. Hmm...how do I answer that?
If you have recently asked me that question since I’ve
returned, you might have been met with a blank stare, a cynical look, or a
one-word answer posed as a question, “Okay??” I honestly just haven't known how to respond or what to say, because I can hardly figure out the answer to that question myself!
Yes, I have experienced pain and loss in my life in many
other ways, but never before have I been cut to the core of my soul and felt the
darkness of such a valley.
Beginning to blog again is probably more for my own benefit than anyone's, but if you care to know more, I'd love to have you journey with me through this, and I pray that my own reflections might encourage you in some way, by God's grace, whether you are in the valley or on the mountaintop in your own life. Either way, thanks for listening.
So, four weeks ago…
My husband and I pulled over the top of the hill overlooking
my parents’ home and property around 12:30 at night. The lights were all on; there sat my dad on
the front porch, waving with a huge smile on his face as we pulled in the
driveway. Of course he would be there
waiting up, anticipating the moment of our arrival, just as I was.
That’s my dad for you.
In the midst of his own busyness, after being at work until 11:00pm for
a City Council meeting, he came home and simply sat enjoying the beauty of a
country Colorado starry night, awaiting the arrival of his precious Sweetums and
her family.
See, the thing you have to understand is that my dad was an
incredible father; he was also, outside of my husband, my very best friend. My mom and brother would say the same thing
of their relationship with him. My dad
was there for us from the day we were born to the day he died. All of the love, wisdom, guidance, support,
and friendship he showered on us over the years will carry us through the rest
of our lives.
My dad was the dad you heard the loudest from the sidelines,
cheering me on in every endeavor I have ever taken. He was the one that made me believe I was
something special, especially to him. He was the one with the camera on at ALL
times, making sure to never miss a precious moment of our lives. Although he had a very demanding job as the
City Attorney, we never really thought much about his job because he somehow
always fit it all in. He never missed a
soccer game, a track meet, a piano recital, a school play, a graduation, a
crucial conversation; my dad’s face was smiling on the sideline at basically
every event in which I have ever taken a part.
Even while I was in college, my dad made sure to travel the 1000 miles
to come see me run and drive me all over the country to go and do whatever I
had in mind to do. What delightful
conversations we had on our many road trips together.
As I grew and got
married, my dad was still an ever-present part of our family life, and he
became a dear friend and beloved father to my husband as well. Whenever Dad came to visit, Adam, Dad and me
would stay up late playing games together, laughing until we cried…literally. Even after I was grown, he made sure to take
me on Daddy-Daughter dates and made sure to listen to whatever I wanted to talk
about with him. He made many trips here to Illinois every year to see his
grandchildren, drive furniture across the country for me, and just stop in for
a weekend visit whenever he could work it into the schedule. Whenever Dad was in town, he joined us in
doing everything (nature hikes, golfing, outings, Amish country, putzing….) and
found any possible way he could to encourage me…from helping in Olivia’s Sunday
school class to planting a flower garden in our front yard for me to working on
our latest project around the house to helping me pick out a new wardrobe to
make me feel good in my post-pregnancy state.
No matter what he had going on around him, he always took the time to
take my phone call. Even in the midst of
a meeting with the mayor or City Manager, Dad would answer my call just so I
could fill him in on what we were having for lunch that day or what cute thing
one of the girls had done that day.
My most favorite times with Dad, whether here in Illinois or
at home in Colorado, were our long talks and walks. In the evenings, after the kids had gone to
bed, my dad and I would go for a stroll, gaze at the stars, and simply walk arm
in arm talking about life, God, the past, the present, the future. We would laugh and delight in the blessings
and joys of life, and he was always the first person I ran to when life got
hard. Even as a grown woman, I still
crawled into his arms to have a good cry with him when I needed it. He always had a tender way of patting me on
the shoulder or leg, looking at me with love in his eyes, and reassuring me
that all would be well. He never let a
day go by without letting me know how very much he loved me. He was every little girls’ dream for what a
father would be like.
I guess I felt you’d have to understand how deep our relationship
was in order to understand the void I am now feeling in my life. I know my mom and brother feel a void just as
great because their relationships with him were just as remarkable. I was going to write more about the darkness
and the pain of the night I lost my dad because beyond dealing with the loss of
my dad, I am also dealing with the trauma of that night. But, as I am writing, my dad’s own words are
coming back to me, reminding me that I have a choice regarding what I choose to
focus upon in my life. I can choose to
dwell on the terror and pain of that night or I can choose to focus upon the
lifetime of joy I have shared (and so many others have shared) with him. So for today, I choose to remember the joy...
More to come...
