Saying Goodbye To The Man I Love…
Sunday evening I received a phone call from my sister in Atlanta that my father was passing. My heart immediately hit the floor. I had just seen him two weeks ago when I flew out to Indianapolis to visit him in the hospital. Even though his outward appearance seemed fine, I knew in the inside he was in bad condition.
Around 1am, my sister called back to tell me that my father had passed away. I have never felt this feeling before. It was as if someone ran over my body. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t comprehend.
It’s not that I haven’t experienced death before. I’ve seen my great grandmother and grandmother pass. I’ve even seen high school friends pass. But the experience of my father was the most devastating feeling of all.
I flew out the next day to Cincinnati to begin the process of planning his memorial and packing up his house. My sister drove up from Atlanta and assisted myself and my Aunt Joy is making sure everything was in order.
I’m glad that I had the opportunity to see my dad a few weeks before he passed. We watched TV is his hospital room and sometimes we just sat in silence. I listened to him tell me how much he wanted to see his granddaughter walk down the aisle on day. I guess he will just have to be there in spirit because God had another plan.
On the second day I visited him in the hospital he told me that he believed God was telling him that it was time to come home. He repeated over and over that he felt like he was seeing people for the last time.
This past Tuesday we were looking for a scripture for someone to read at the memorial and my aunt pulls out a crumbled up paper out of her purse. She said that my father had been writing down scriptures while in the hospital. My sister opened up the paper and began to cry. Along with about 4 or 5 scriptures were the words “I want to be free from this sickness”. And in fact he was. God had called him home to free him of his pain and suffering.
Selfishly, I want my daddy back. I can’t image life without this man. Last year I suffered from a deep depression and my father was there for me every step of the way. He called me everyday. He came up to Indianapolis every week and brought me some of my favorite Cincinnati food. He gave me words of encouragement and even attended doctor appointments with me. He did this all while dealing with his own health issues.
I never had to question my father’s love for me. He showed it every day.
I wish I could say that dealing with my father’s death is easy but it is not. My sister and I have been in denial all week. We told ourselves that we were really planning our father’s retirement party, not his memorial.
My father’s memorial was beautiful. Family and friends shared their love for my father and spoke about his unbelievable desire to make a difference in his community. People also talked about the crazy practical jokes that he played on folks. Even the Color Guard gave honor to my father. I think he would have been proud of what we put together for him.
I will miss my dad telling me that I look like the Milkman or that I really hatched from an egg. I will miss going to the movies with my dad and our long talks over dinner. Most of all, I will miss his smile.
#RIPDADDY
