It’s funny how a sunrise looks like a sunset.
The soft warm light beckoning a new beginning, or declaring the end of an accomplished day.
There’s been so many phone calls, visits, and tears.
I was in the parking lot, ready to put on the cowboy boots that my father bought me less than a year ago.
His love of all things western and John Wayne finally rubbed off on me, some 20 years later.
It’s intriguing how we inherit things, mostly unintentionally, but profound nonetheless.
And in the midst, a story of love is being told.
On the other end of the phone, was the voice of my mother, abnormally shaky, but very direct and strong.
A heart attack on the plane. An emergency landing. It didn’t look good.
We prayed.
And I remember that prayer.
“God, if this is your time for him, give us Your peace, but please, if it is not, breathe your resurrection power into his body.”
And moments later, he was gone.
And the wind was knocked out of me.
I was still sitting in the parking lot. I looked around for help. Tears streaming down my face.
My mom in Arizona with my father, and me nowhere close.
And yet, in the midst of my shock and crying, I felt a deep-seated peace.
I cannot explain it.
But it’s still present.
So are the tears. But this peace.
It’s incredible.
And if I told you all the ways in which I’ve been able to witness first hand the kindness and timing of God in the midst of this enormous heartbreak, your heart would begin to soften, and your soul hopefully encouraged.
How my dad was able to visit his home town just days prior and take care of the last wishes of his mother. How he told my mother in a passing conversation how and where he’d like to be buried with new revelatory detail.
How my dad had just secured all of his wishes for his family that would be left behind, if something were to happen to him.
How my dad was able to stay by the beach (his favorite place on earth) for a few days with my mom, prior to them celebrating their 31st wedding anniversary. (They had been flying back from this trip).
How the plane in which my parents were flying on, had 4 distinct medical personnel (Heart doctor, nurses, surgeon…), simply traveling as civilian passengers that were able to work on my dad while they were in the air.
How two of my parents’ best friends happen to be traveling on the same flight that my dad had the heart attack on, and how those 2 best friends ran off the plane with my mom, with no hesitation--So when my mom heard the official news at the hospital in a different state, she wasn’t alone.
How one of my best friends, who lives in Arizona and close to the hospital was able to meet my stranded mom and her friends and take them all in for the night. And the following day, help my mom with necessary (and not-so-fun) logistics the day after.
And how my dad left a legacy of love spanning the generations.
The words that people have to say about my father are breathtaking.
I’m so very proud of him.
So proud.
He was one that was never afraid of death. His heart was always in a place that was surrendered to God. He trusted God’s timing with such things.
I hope to have his courage one day.
He was a man’s man, with such a tender heart. A black cowboy at heart and a Florida country boy to the core, an adventurer, an explorer, full of eccentric life experience, a builder, a mechanic, a lover of Jesus, a gentleman, a music lover, a classic film lover, a giver, never met a stranger, a natural mentor, a coach, and the one that would speak so confidently of the amazing future I would have with my future husband as I take on the world of my dreams.
He never doubted in my future. Ever. And he ‘understood’ my unique temperaments and me like very few, because he too grew up as an only child.
My parents still live in the same neighborhood I grew up in. And they know most of the neighbors quite well.
So much so, that when I went to our 4 closest neighbors to break the news about my father, almost everyone broke into tears and grabbed me wholeheartedly. We are talking about grown folks here, including men.
I once grumbled when I felt God calling me back to live with my parents, in the midst of me trying to adult and have a career. But I let go of pride, and what I thought would only end up being one year, ended up being almost 4 years.
And now, I’m so humbled and grateful for those tender years.
I was able to be present with both of my parents as an adult in ways that I had not experienced as a young girl. The conversations we would have, the dinners, the arguments, the laughter. So rich.
I look back and know without a shadow of a doubt, it was all worth it.
And now I better understand the timing of God and how it pertains to, and often revolves around our cherished relationships.
Even when I moved away, I felt a stirring in my heart to be intentional seeing and spending time with my parents. And I did. I’ll be forever grateful to God for opening my eyes and my heart to the importance of true family, and that time is the currency that not even kings can make more of.
There are always more words you’ll want to say, more wisdom to glean, more hugs you'll want to get, and of course, I wanted my dad to see the grandkids he joked about spoiling rotten on sugar highs at his house, only to send them back to me like crazed little monkeys.
But there is not a gaping whole of lost time and regret in my heart. And I think that would have been far worse than the pain of grief on its own.
In the midst of my deep grief last week, something very beautiful happened.
The 16 year old son of our neighbor had a dream of my dad. And my dad said some specific things to him in this dream.
Now this 16 year old had never had a dream like this in his life, so he was a bit freaked out by the whole ordeal, but his mom felt led to come to my parent’s house to share the dream with my mom and I.
And when she did, my mom and I both smiled. It was exactly something my dad would say.
Talk about the kindness of God.
As I process grief in all its complexity, I cannot ignore the beauty and presence of God in the midst, and I cling to Him.
I weep.
And I cling.
This is unlike anything I’ve ever walked through before.
But if I can share one major thing I’m learning, it’s this. I want to cut past the bull and love people more, with greater authenticity, vulnerability, courage, and hope.
The current cultural rhetoric is a bit jarring in contrast to the tenderness I feel in losing my papa.
Because everything seems secondary to love. Everything.
And we only have a set time to do this love thing in.
So you can count on me giving you more awkward long hugs, kisses, gazes into your eyes, and just wanting to sit with you to hear your heart, or simply do nothing but be together.
Because yes, the sun has set.
And in this current climate, I so greatly miss the light and warmth of such a star, but as I sit through these hours of the night, I know that it’s only a matter of time until the sun, in all its hope and promise will, in great boldness, eventually appear.
Wisdom’s Knocking:
"You can play the game and you can act out the part,
Though you know it wasn't written for you.
Tell me, how can you stand there with your broken heart, ashamed of playing the fool?
One thing can lead to another; it doesn't take any sacrifice.
Oh, father and mother, sister and brother, if it feels nice, don't think twice,
Just shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel.
Things are gonna work out fine if you only will do as I say,
Shower the people you love with love, show them the way you feel.
Things are gonna be much better if you only will.
You can run but you cannot hide, this is widely known.
What you plan to do with your foolish pride
When you're all by yourself, alone.
Once you tell somebody the way that you feel, you can feel it beginning to ease.
I think it's true what they say about the squeaky wheel always getting the grease.
Better to shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel.
I know things are gonna be just fine if you only will what I'd like to do to you.
Shower the people you love with love, show them the way you feel.
Things are gonna be much better if you only will.
Shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel
Shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel.
They say in every life, they say the rain must fall, just like the pouring rain, make it rain.
Make it rain, love, love, love is sunshine, oh yes,
Make it rain, love, love, love is sunshine. Alright.
Everybody, everybody."
-- "Shower the People" - James Taylor
