A Shoulder To Cry On

We had planned to spend Thanksgiving in Colorado this year.  My three siblings in Utah and the two of us in Missouri would meet in the middle at our sister's house in Denver for a wintery wonder sort of Thanksgiving reunion.  Then we got the news about Dad and plans changed quickly.

It's hard to believe that its only been three weeks since Dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  The sickness has transfigured him in no time at all.  He seems suddenly thin and frail, two words I would never have used to describe him before.  His countenance is soft and sleepy, his eyes sparkle when he wakes, with love radiating quickly and concentrated.  Just walking into his hospice-converted bedroom, I could sense the hushed solitude of a man waiting patiently at the doorstep of heaven.  

We visited Dad four times this week.  Brock, Austin, Brandon and I drove to California, arriving Tuesday night.  On the way, I spotted the little phone boxes on the side of the highway with the words "Call Box" written on them.  I was reminded of the many times I drove with my dad on those roads, and how it made me laugh when would literally call out the word, "box!" every time we passed one of those blue signs.  I carried on the tradition with my boys, who briefly looked up from their iPads to roll their eyes at me.

That night, after checking into our VRBO rental house, the four of us went to the little condo in Leisure World to love on Dad and listen to his stories about being a Boy Scout and his service in the Navy reserves and U.S. Coast Guard.

Later that night, Justin, Eden & Kade flew in to LAX, and we all went back to see Dad on Wednesday.  Not sure who to delegate his prized possession to, Dad held a drawing for his musical saw, and Justin was the lucky winner!  So we took the opportunity to learn a little from the master musician before he passes on.

Thursday was Thanksgiving. We had the traditional turkey feast at our rental house with Mom and all the family who was in town (Bill, Brenda, Bonnie, Belinda & co.). Later, we watched the sunset at the beach and then went to see Dad.  He came out of his room for a bit, and we all sat around the living room and sang hymns together.  My family has always sung together.  It is a long-standing tradition to gather around the piano and harmonize with one another.  It felt so wonderful to spend this holiday together in that old way.  I feel such love for my dear family and the parents who provided such a full life for us.  

The time spent with my dad was so pleasant and full of love, it was hard to feel the sadness I knew was lurking in my heart.  That sadness surfaced on Friday, and I let the tears flow on my last visit to his room that night.  While the kids played happily in the living room with their cousins, I crept quietly to Dad's chairside and laid my head on his shoulder.  I sobbed hard and deep into his blanket while he held my hand tightly and told me again how sure he was of heaven and how we would be there together again someday.  

It's hard to imagine living the rest of my life without my daddy.  While I know somewhere in my mind that he is not a perfect man, my memories and thoughts these past weeks have been concentrated solely on the good gift of his life.  I have been flooded with such an overwhelming sense of fondness for my father, that his flaws have become forgettable to me.  He has provided me with a rich life of health and joy and comfort and truth.  He has known me better and loved me longer than any other man on earth.  He is my papa, my daddy, my old man.  I love my dad so dearly.  I will miss him tremendously when he is gone.

Eventually, my sobbing subsided, and I felt a sudden sense of stillness come over me.  My spirit touched his spirit, and I was comforted.  Dad's turn on earth is winding down, while my turn is in full swing.  I will return now to the sacred and strenuous task of loving and teaching my family, while Dad's spirit moves closer to the rest and relief of the happy hunting grounds.  I am so grateful for this time of tenderness I have had with my earthly father.  It is a gift from my Heavenly Father that we have had this chance to say goodbye.  In my heart, I feel the separation from them both, and hope more than ever that this separation is only temporary.