Fly High, Dad!

On Friday morning, June 9th my Dad passed away unexpectedly on his front porch at their home in Texas.  I remember where I was standing in the house when Dan called me. Dan was working down in Texas at the time, and he had just backed our semi into their yard and brought in his luggage. Dad stood up to open the door for him, as he sat on the front porch during the early morning hours when it was cooler.  Dan went inside, dropped his luggage, and came back outside to sit and visit Dad.  But, Dad was slumped over in his chair, and despite EMS arriving within 2 minutes of Dan's call, they were not able to revive him. He passed quickly, peacefully into the arms of Jesus without any of us getting a chance to say goodbye. Our hearts were broken. 

Dan called to tell me Dad was unresponsive, and they were working on him. I knew in my heart he was gone, but we all prayed desperately for the Lord to touch him one more time. It was not to be so.  I quickly made airline reservations to fly out that afternoon and arrived in Texas late that night. My Dad was gone - gone from this earth to his heavenly home, and reunion with his loved ones in heaven, gone to rest in the arms of Jesus. 

The loss of him in our lives though - this is what we mourn. This is why we grieve and cry. I'll never hear my Dad's voice again, this side of heaven.  But he lives on in my heart, his words, his love, his presence, what he meant to all who knew him! 

The last picture of Dad and I together, on Easter Sunday morning of this year when
we went to church together. 

Dad loved classic cars and cowboy hats and enjoyed a good visit at Buc-ees.  If you are from Texas, you know what Buc-ees is - if not - if you ever get to Texas, you need to visit this iconic convenience store. Dad loved Buc-ees! 

Dad and I on a recent visit to Buc-ees. 

Dad remained a citizen of Canada all the years after moving to Texas, but he loved the United States of America and the blessing of the freedoms it meant for all of us! 

On my last visit at Easter, Dad, Mom, and I enjoyed the day together - I took them out to eat at a quaint diner, The Twisted Fork, and we got this fun picture together. How thankful I am for these memories! 

Dad came up every summer to spend several weeks with us. 
We always ate lots and lots of huckleberry sundaes and ice cream! 

When we went for a visit at Easter, we went for a drive in Dad's old pickup.
Sweet and precious memories they are to me now! 

Ryan and Dad with Ryan's dog, Gus, went for a ride in Dad's pickup,
this was back in the early spring of this year.

Dad made it to Ryan's wedding last June, even though he had a heart attack the day before. He was in the hospital most of the time on his visit here, but he was determined not to miss the festivities! 

Dad spent several days in the hospital before being released to travel back home to Texas. This was the last picture I took with him and Mom as they left Idaho last June. 

One of the hardest things about losing Dad was not having that chance to say goodbye to him one last time. The day before in the garden, I had a long 23-minute chat with him, and we talked about a lot of things - but if I had known that would be our last conversation, I would have talked to him for hours! 

Dad and I talked daily on the phone, he called all of us children regularly, but he called me just about every day as he knew I was walking or was in the garden, and I always had time to talk.  Many of my siblings have jobs that didn't allow them that freedom. I'm so thankful for every time the phone rang and I got to hear my Dad's voice. He was my greatest cheerleader - for all of us kids. He had a hearty jolly laugh and wit and was always spot on with his advice and insights. 

On the airplane flying to Texas to be with my family, I began to write. On the first leg of my flight from Spokane to Denver, I wrote my tribute to my Dad that I shared at his funeral. Each of us 5 children spoke. It was so very special, and a beautiful going-away service for my Dad.  

On the second leg of my flight, from Denver to San Antonio, we encountered extreme turbulence in the airways. In fact, the flight attendants remained seated as did all passengers for the entire flight, and no one was even allowed to go to the bathroom for the 2+ hour-long flight. As the plane shook and rumbled in the turbulence, I began to contemplate life - much like the writer of Ecclesiastes had done. I wrote the following using my phone - as paper and pen were impossible.  It helped to keep my mind focused on what the Lord was speaking to my heart in the midst of the turbulent flight. 

TIMESTAMP 

What's in a moment of time? Why does time pass so quickly in moments of bliss and joy, yet the moment of deep sorrow and pain feels endless and relentless? 

How can the same quantity and entity of time be so different in each life? As we traverse Earth's journey one step at a time, each step can be marked with a timestamp - for one a lifetime in a moment, for others a breath too short. How do we comprehend the vast reality of time in human bodies that bear the mark of life's time journey? Some look aged and worn at 40, others at 60 still young and vibrant. Some bodies are healthy, and others struggle with health for their entire timestamp on earth. How does a blink of an eye, a moment of time transpire so quickly for one, and yet drag on with prolonged agony for another? 

In one day, in a moment, a child is born, a new life brought into this world, a cry announcing its arrival, celebrated with rejoicing - yet on that same day, in the blink of an eye, a precious loved one - gone, with sad cries of hearts broken by its loss. Gone from this earthly world - no time for goodbyes, no last words shared, no love you's to speak into hearts. Time stops in one moment, and in another, time begins.

Wrapping my mind around this reality is quite frankly, impossible. It's often called the circle of life. The writer of Ecclesiastes pondered this truth too. A time to live and a time to die... a time for all things, good and bad.

Hurts, shattered dreams, broken promises, failures - so much of what is broken in our humanity lies within a timestamp. Yet, marked also are the joys of hearing a baby's first cry, smelling the rich fragrance of garden peonies, hearing loved ones say I love you, being wrapped in the embrace of the one you love, and the delight of watching the rain drip from the skies, watering the earth, and for the joyous love of Jesus that can rinse your soul of its dirt and grime, refresh and renew under the waterspout of His grace and mercy. 

What does the timestamp of life hold? What marks the measure of time in life? 

Each of us has a different file, our own number, and our own reality. What can we fill ours with that really matters, that will be the hallmark when the timestamp seals, and is written: "Done". Will it be well done, thou good and faithful servant? Will surrendering your life to Jesus mark each moment of your life with a covering of His grace and love? Or will you endeavor and strive to make life your own, alone? 

Remember - each life has a timestamp and its length unknown.  Live each day without regrets- aware that life is not guaranteed beyond our next breath. Live with love, joy, and peace. Gather each moment of your life like a bouquet of flowers, knowing that its season can and will end, but is to be enjoyed fully in the moment. 

Don't wait another day - or for that perfect moment - instead live each and every breath of your life aware of your timestamp, it is being marked.  

Make it count. 

The day my Dad died, coincided with several big events in our family.  A great-niece was born early on the morning on June 9, 2023 hours before Dad passed.  And 73 years before, on June 9, 1950, his sister Helen Elayne was stillborn due to a doctor's error giving too much ether to my grandmother. Dad died on the day his sister would have been born, 73 years previously. When I wrote the "Timestamp" piece on the airplane, I was not aware of the date of his death coinciding with the death of his younger sister. 

I shared this verse at Dad's going away service. It sums up the beauty of his life lived. 

Ecclesiastes 3:11-15 

He has made everything beautiful in its time. 

He has also set eternity in the human heart, 

yet no one can fathom 

what God has done from beginning to end. 

I know that there is nothing better for people 

than to be happy and to do good while they live. 

That each of them may eat and drink 

and find satisfaction in all their toil—

this is the gift of God.

 I know that everything God does will endure forever; 

nothing can be added to it 

and nothing taken from it. 

God does it so that people will fear him.  

Whatever is has already been,  

and what will be has been before, 

and God will call the past to account.

One of my brothers wanted this song played for my father's slideshow. I think it shares the essence of his life, well lived, and his loss is bittersweet - I am so happy to think of him in the presence of Jesus - but I miss his presence here on earth, so very much!  

Fly high Dad - we are looking forward to the heavenly reunion that we are promised someday!