Monday, May 26, 2008
Memorial Day always makes me think of my father. He was a Veitnam vet who died when I was finishing up my freshman year in college. We usually attend the service at the school where they read his name along with other veterans in our community who have died.
It was cold this morning, a stark difference from the beautiful summer day we had yesterday. I dressed the kids in long sleeves for the program. I tried to explain to my kids that my dad, their grandfather, was a soldier who fought for our country.
I think about all the things my dad has missed since he died. My wedding, the 11 (going on 12) grandkids he didn't even get to see come into this world, working on projects with my husband and my brothers; my dad was an amazing woodworker. He could build anything. His math skills were astonishing. I wish he could be here to help my kids learn fractions, and the things that man could build with legos, WOW.
Mostly, I wonder if he is in heaven. He had his moments in his illness. After treatment he would always be wholeheartedly praying and reading the Bible. Then slowly, the demons of alcohol would, once again, help him forget completely about God and his family on earth. I once asked one of my youth pastors what he thought. He told me to pray about it, so I have been ever since.
I hope that you know how much Jesus loves you daddy. I hope that you believe in Him and his sacrifice for us. I hope that you asked for forgiveness and knew that God would grant it to you, even on your death bed.
Thanks for all you did for my country when you were a soldier.
Thanks for all you did for me when you were a daddy.
I miss you.