Ok - here goes - I have put off writing this blog because it just doesn't seem real yet and, somehow, by writing it, it gives it more permanence. Such a heavy, heavy time. On April 29, our phone rang about 6:30 and I could hear my mom trying to talk. She was finally able to get out that she thought my dad was dead.
Rick and I flew out the door. It was true. A day we had known was coming had arrived. Two and a half weeks later I still feel like I am functioning in the mode Daddy prepared me to handle. We discussed his death many times and he told me to take care of my mom which I am desperately trying to do. (Her heart is breaking.) On the Saturday before he died, he told me he wanted a funeral in Decatur because they had made such good friends here. He said he wanted it as soon as possible after he died. And he told me that he wanted me to stand by his casket and thank each person for coming. My dad knew how he wanted to live and he knew how he wanted to die. He was and is one to be in charge when things get confusing for the rest of us. He continues to minister to me now with that steady reassurance.
This morning Mom rode with me to get my nails done and we discussed how sweet the Lord's timing is - I am grateful that I got to sit through Rick's series on heaven earlier this year and gather some thoughts about the place where Dad is enjoying rest.
Lori Lowe gave Mom a poem that she told me today has ministered to her beautifully. When I asked her what part meant the most to her, she responded 'the part about me having to let him go and his promise that he would meet me with a smile when I get to heaven."
This is a really wierd time in life.
