june 11, 2013

We really are given only one day at a time. Our family tries really hard to look at each other in the eyes when we say “goodbye and I love you” and walk out the door. You just never know when that could be the last time you see them.

The last time I saw my Dad was on his birthday, June 11th. We were on our YL assignment at Windy Gap and he and my Mom came and visited us for the day. It was probably one of the best days I had really had in a long time. My kids were excited to see my parents. My parents were excited to see all of us. They had never been to Windy Gap before and we couldn’t wait for them to see it and experience some of camp.

I ran into town that morning with the kids to a local bakery and bought two small éclairs…my Dad’s favorite dessert.

He wore yellow shorts. For some reason I remember that. I’m not sure why because I never remember things like that…but I remember he had yellow shorts on. Our kids did all the introducing to other YL Staff. They were so proud to have their grandparents there…I think they felt extra special…like they were celebrities at camp.

They stayed the afternoon and wanted to get home before it was dark. The trip was only about 2.5 hours from home. It was a beautiful day. I think that was a special birthday for my Dad. It was for me. We hugged them tight. I told them I loved them. And we waved goodbye as we watched them leave.

That was the last time I saw my Dad.

Windy Gap. His birthday. Smiles, laughter, lunch, éclairs, watching our kids do all the fun things they had built up the courage to do: jump off the diving board, go down the huge slide, ride the zip line into the lake.

I really wish I had gotten a picture that day. I honestly can’t believe in all my love for documenting that I didn’t get my camera out and take a picture. I even thought about it. And never got it. Crap. I’m really bummed about that. I think writing this out helps me to remember the picture in my head. That I can “look” at this as such as gift from God…even though I am so mad right now.

I’m just mad. I’m just mad that piece of my life…that chapter of my life…in a way has closed.

I was talking to a friend the other day that said the hardest times will come when you miss the little every day, simple things. Wyatt drew this really awesome picture of a frog and labeled it from a picture he saw in a book. I immediately thought my Dad would love this! And oh how I wanted to share it with him. Then reality slapped me in the face. I thought to myself…who will care this much about a labeled frog that my child drew…no one {outside of Andy}.

I know God is good. I still believe that. I believe His plans are perfect. I believe that there is beauty from brokenness. I believe that maybe in time, I won’t come to believe that the chapter closed in my life when my Dad died but that I can carry on pieces of him to my kids. Like going camping. Going fishing. Painting and drawing. Giving them coffee on special vacations with a lot of cream and sugar!

I’m just not there yet.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3