Strange feelings of late....very heavy hearted days. Perhaps it's the change of season that's approaching. The flash of cold air brings a mood along with it. The dying has begun.
The other day I passed by the gas station Dad was at the morning he had the stroke. He'd gone out to breakfast that morning, a grey and cold December day. Dad always loved going out to breakfast. My whole life growing up, except on Sunday, he'd be at a local restaurant for breakfast. It served as his community, his mission field of sorts. So like he had for the previous 50 or so years of mornings, he had his breakfast out, and while driving home noticed that he needed gas. So he stopped and filled the tank. This simple task done a thousand times before. For me, I've found the simple has become profound since he left us. I often wonder what he thought about during those few minutes standing alongside his truck while the tank ("tick tick tick") slowly filled to the top and the wind whipped coldly alongside him. Did he know? Did he have any suspician that things were on the verge of change?
If he only had known! Within an hour or so of that very normal morning, that very normal breakfast, and that very normal fill up at the local gas station, his life would essentially come to an end. That's the most disturbing part of it all. The rapid decent from normality to insane; from bright light to darkness; from life to death, all within moments of eachother. Boom. Done. Over. Just like that.
Think I miss him more now than ever. As the birth of my third child approaches, I'm struck by the irony of life starting anew within feet of where he died. Same hospital, same month, just 12 months apart. From death comes life I've heard it said, and it's true. What better way to celebrate all that this life offers than with a new little person. He'd have been the one I'd be most excited to tell. He would have cried a little bit, and told me in his calm way something to the effect that I'd never regret it, and that his years as a father were the most meaningful of his entire life. Mine too, Dad. Mine too.
1 comment:
Bud, I miss him so badly now too....I guess it is the Fall coming, the leaves dropping, the seasons changing, his departure so real again during this, one of his favorite, seasons. Cool, crisp days out on his rototiller. Planting and making more homes 'a home', fires in the fireplace, suntan faces, a tossel cap, and leaves blowing. It hurts too badly. I want him back here and I want so much to see his smiling face and dancing eyes. What is he doing now? I so want to know that. Joy comes in the morning...
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