In Memory of Dad

These are the thoughts I shared at Dad's funeral today.  If any of it sounds like it was taken from a previous blog post, it's probably because it was. 

Dear Dad,

You went to heaven this week.  That must have been quite the journey.  I'm so sorry I couldn't be there when you left, but I'm glad we were able to spend Thanksgiving together just a few short weeks ago.  

Do you remember how I cried on your shoulder the last time we were together?  And you held me close and neither of us said anything for a long time?  When you did speak, you asked me if I knew what the shortest verse in the bible was.  "Jesus wept,"  I answered.  Then you told me again how certain you were of God and heaven, and how ready you were to go there and see your parents and other loved ones, and how you knew that we would be there together again someday.  I'm so glad that you could finally make the journey.  I know you will be there waiting to greet me when it's my turn to follow you there.

It's funny the things that make you miss a person after they're gone.  Yesterday, I was at Costco buying bananas and I got a little choked up because I remembered how much you like bananas.  I wonder, are there bananas in Heaven?

I miss how you would say, "Hey there, Squirt", with a big bear hug and a kiss on the cheek.  I miss sitting on the couch next to you with your newspaper, waiting for you to be done with the funnies so I could read "Garfield".  

Do you remember how you used to wake me up in the morning?  Leaning over the side of the bed with one index finger wagging back and forth over the tip of my nose?  Boy!  Was that ever annoying!  

And do you remember the time you got up early on April Fool's Day and changed all the clocks forward an hour so that I got up and ready for school an hour early?  I can imagine you peeking through the blinds and snickering to yourself as you watched me walk across the street and knock on the neighbor girl's door so that we could walk to school together.  Imagine the expression on my face when I learned that she was still in the shower, because we still had an hour before it was time to go!  

Do you remember when I was in fifth grade and you and I had the house to ourselves for a while?  Mom and Belinda were getting things settled in Utah, but I wanted to stay in Barstow with you while you taught your last year of school before retirement.  I picked up a particularly bad case of hair lice that fall, and you spent hours and hours combing my long, thick hair, trying to get all of the tiny nits off of each strand.  I cried because of the pain and tediousness of the process, so you suggested that we just cut all of my hair off.  I was desperate enough to let you do it, so with shears in your hand, you snipped away, proclaiming that "Hey!  This is just like clipping an upside down hedge!"

Do you remember driving back to visit Barstow every summer?  Playing slug bug and calling out "box!" whenever we passed an emergency call box on the side of the road.  You knew exactly which gas stations sold the best hamburgers and where we could stop and get am/pm soft serve ice cream cones along the way.  I never did get why you called cows "Utah deer".  

Do you remember when I was a teenager and I snuck out of the house one night and got picked up by the cops for being out after curfew?  I didn't know what you would do with me.  I don't think you knew what to do with me either.  I will never forget the look on your face when you picked me up at the police station.  You were so disappointed in me.  I knew I had really let you down.  I expected you to yell, but you didn't.  Instead, you talked to me about trust.  You told me that trust is fragile, and once it is lost, it is very hard to earn back.  

There were times in your life when you made mistakes.  You were as human and flawed as the rest of us, and like the rest of us, you sometimes hurt the ones that you loved.  But you knew your Savior, and you sought His grace.  I learned from your example about the infinite power of Jesus Christ's atonement, and of His eagerness to heal and bless and forgive.

I was at church when I heard that you had passed on.  I knew you would go soon.  I had hoped to be there when you went.  I cried for a while, but then something remarkable happened.  My sorrow was immediately and completely replaced with soul-filling peace.  I knew it the instant I felt it.  It was the peace that only the Holy Spirit can bring.     

Exactly six weeks after your cancer diagnosis, you were at rest.  It was what you wanted.  It was what you prayed for.  I imagined your spirit hovering over your body, looking down at Mom, bidding farewell to the woman who so dutifully served you 'til the end.  In my mind, I saw you turning to look upward, and journeying toward a distant light.  Once in the light, you would experience a joyful reunion with your parents and other loved ones who have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.  I imagined them showing you around the spirit world, and answering your many burning questions about the mysteries of God and heaven.  I don't have any idea what any of that must have been like, but you know.  You are there now, having your faith confirmed, and your doubts absolved.  How could I feel anything but pure joy, as I think of you being freed from every earthly pain and sorrow?  Truly, this is a time to rejoice.

A few nights ago, I had a vivid dream.  The family was gathered in preparation for your funeral.  I knew you were gone, but I looked up and there you were, sitting on the couch with your newspaper.  You looked at me.  I looked at you.  You were there.  You were real.  I was missing you, but you were right there.  You smiled at me.  No words were spoken.  Just a comforting feeling of presence.  I know you are not far away.  In fact, in many ways, it seems you are closer than ever.  I love you, Dad.  

So many of life's experiences shed new light on gospel truths.  I have no memory of my Heavenly Father, yet I have always felt that He is close by.  I have never doubted God's existence.  He is my Eternal Father.  He looks upon me with perfect and incomprehensible love.  He guides my path, even when my steps seems to be taken in darkness.  I can look behind me, and know that His hand prepared each stepping stone.  In a similar way, I now know and feel the presence of my earthly father, still near, still loving, and still very invested in my life.  When the time comes, he will be there, waiting in the light, when I make that joyful journey back home to the realms of glory.  There, I will be greeted by my two loving fathers, each of whom are waiting anxiously for my return.