Happy Birthday, Dad!

My dad has been in heaven for two years now. But had he lived, today would have been his 84th birthday. It is bittersweet to think of that. How can I not rejoice because he is where he is? How can I not miss him with an ache I had never dreamed would exist within me?

When I lost my grandmother, it didn't seem as real. I remember that six months after she died, I was watching television while I ironed and heard something that I knew she would think was funny. I had the phone in my hand and most of the number dialed before I remembered she wasn't there. 

I've never not remembered that my dad is gone. He stayed aggravated with me for much of the last three years of his life. On at least one occasion (and probably more I don't know about), he told my mother he wanted her to stop talking to me because every time she did, he ended up having to go to the doctor or the hospital. Apparently, the fact that he'd paid for my four years in nursing school escaped him at those times. 

As I write this, my father-in-law is nearing the end of his life. We have no idea how soon the end will come, of course - maybe weeks, maybe a couple of years - only God knows the number of his days, but I dread the days following. I hate for my husband and his brother to have to go through what I have already experienced. That first day waking up and realizing my father is no longer in the world with me. But my father-in-law is suffering loss of physical ability as well as confusion and disorientation daily. He is a challenge to my mother-in-law. He is the epitome of a control-freak and this weekend, he decided not to take his medicine. In addition he would only drink from a freshly-opened bottle because he thought someone was putting something in his drinks. You know, we hadn't thought of that, but maybe his medicine? No, I don't mean that, but he has been difficult. How can we not hope that God will soon release him from the prison that it his body? To know that he too is completely healthy and in the presence of our Lord is the best thing we can wish for him.

But with that joy comes the sadness of remaining in this world ourselves without those we love. One day, we will be reunited, my dad and I, my grandmother and my aunts and uncles and cousin who have gone on before, and that will be a good day for me. But it will not be a good day for my children and those I leave behind. 

I live my life hoping someone will miss me when I am gone and enjoying every moment of every day that I am here in the meantime. And Dad, I can't say it so you can hear it, but Happy Birthday. I'm thinking about you today.