Well, where do I start?
My dad died while I was at Centri-Kid in KY. I had talked to him the night before. I told him I loved him. He told me he loved me and was proud of me.
And even though I'm a church guy, and know where my dad is. It still hurts. Little things set me off into a sniffling mess. Like today, I just walked by the wheelchair we borrowed from the church when we went to DC. I put my hands on it and pretended I was pushing Dad all over DC again. The last vacation he ever took. And all he cared about the whole time was how Kim was doing with the baby.
My dad was the single greatest influence in my life. And now he's gone. Not forgotten, but gone.
And on top of that whirlwind trip to Arkansas, when everything was still shocking, what with my family all there, and Mom to be comforted, it's only really starting to sink in that he's gone. I mean, I know when we walk in to that house, he's not there, but the idea that I'll never hear his voice, or see his smile, or hear him sneeze 10 times and scream it out...or never to tease him about eating chocolate or have him squeeze me in one of those long embraces where we don't want to let each other go....that hurts. It hurts so bad. I can't describe it.
And yet, God.
Oh, my sweet Lord. I need thee ev'ry hour.
I thought I could get through this post. I guess I was wrong.
I'll try again soon, maybe.
1 comment:
hey man...i haven't lost my dad, but i've been through enough over the years in ministry, and enough the past few months between my dad and my grandpa and so forth, that i understand, to an extent.
if i could, i'd give you a big hug, and we'd play video games and listen to music and know that even though we have God and serve God and minister for God, it still hurts, but we're still gonna be ok because it's bigger than us.
we love you guys.
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