Riding in the car on this golden, golden day.
Clouds sailing high, and breezes just perfect.
I remember last year at this time, and find a catch in my throat.
(Where are all these tears coming from?)
Last year, we were on our way to the wedding of a precious nephew.
Daddy was preaching the sermon, and he was doing so well healthwise.
He and Mama rode with us in our van. What wonderful memories!
(“I wanna sit where you wanna sit!”)
Last week, one of Daddy’s friends died.
One of the last memories I have of him and Ivan was at church.
He and Ivan, two very sick men. Standing in the foyer. Heads bowed. Praying together.
(Oh, Daddy were you there to welcome him home?)
This morning, in far away Florida, Uncle Monroe died.
We knew it was coming, and this week has been long.
Long because of his suffering. Long because of our sadness.
(Dear Florida Family, how very much your courage has blessed me from afar!)
Our Sweet Mama is grieving so hard. I see the pain in her eyes.
I hear the sorrow in her voice when I talk to her on the phone.
She took flowers to Daddy’s grave this week for the first time.
(“He isn’t there!” she says, and she is more real than I am.)
“Last year at this time. . . ” I’ve said it so often. Remembering things this whole year long.
Today, thinking ahead, I realize just how much I hate to see this year end.
It feels like he isn’t quite so gone when I can say, “Last year at this time. . . “
(Is this year even a minute to you, Daddy Dear?)
I feel so “left behind” today. Like I am missing out on something really important.
The “Song of the Redeemed” has been singing in my heart for many a year.
But somewhere, there’s a harmony to that song being sung that I can’t quite hear.
(I wonder if my Daddy is singing tenor?)
It feels like a long, long time since I’ve seen my Daddy’s face.
And it feels like a hundred years since I heard my Daddy’ voice.
And it seems like a thousand years since I got that last hug.
(How can these days be so interminable in their brevity?)
And so, I know that there will be days like this.
There will be days when I will remember him and smile.
And there will be days like to day when I will just miss him.
(The good part is, I’m really not missing out on anything there! Heaven Waits!)
And some sweet day, we’ll all be going home!