Remembering Dad

  Dad passed away in the early hours on Jan 31st. That was a long day, surely a hard one. In the midst of his passing some powerful things have happened. I'm gonna incorporate them into my blog in the upcoming postings, but it's going to take a while.

  So let's start with a strange one. I went in and spent a few moments alone with my dad's body. It wasn't a falling all over him, horrified that he was gone moment, rather, it was peaceful. He wasn't in pain anymore. I kept expecting him to blink, breathe, something..... but he wasn't there. His struggles were over.

  I cried some. I wanted to say alot of things, but I noticed a baby monitor was still on. How could I be raw and real knowing that others could hear me?

  What do you say to the man you struggled so hard with? How can you express grief when the shock is so fresh? When you begin seeing your dad as a loving man, how do you not have regrets?

  I'm intensely aware that Dad loved me. My complete failure as his son never compromised his love for me. Sure we fought over meaningless stuff, but we cried together over the important. We joined together in a battle of wits against unarmed men. In other words, we complained about the world just like everyone else.

  The past few days have brought new family members back into my life. It's a strange process, this getting to know people. Life is too short to be unreconciled with people you can care about. I didn't quite get that before.

  My battle today is focused on his memorial service. I will be speaking. I will be preaching Dad's favorite passage. I hope I honor him well.

  The speaking in front of people troubles me. I was a facade of a man for years. I was able to speak to a crowd in utmost confidence, whilst lying the whole time. I'm not that man anymore. But I feel the draw to be fake. There is that desire to push platitudes and clichés. There is a desire to be puffed up and not humble. I can be very prideful.

  I want to be genuine. I want to share how my dad loved me thru the worst of times, about how we had tender moments, about how I wish he were here so we could argue some more, about how he was a diamond with sharp edges.

  The memorial is in March. I'm starting to take notes. I feel like I have one opportunity to tell a large group of people about my dad and I want to do it well. Am I nervous? Yes.

  So here we go. Someone once told me that humans are either in a crisis, emerging from a crisis, or will soon be entering a crisis. It's my job to care. I want that message to be shared at dads memorial. he would have liked that.