More on dad
It’s 11:00. Just got home. Unpacked a few things. Got comfortable. Sat down to look through a week’s worth of mail. Letterman is on in the background (It’s his halloween night program, always a favorite of mine). I was gone for a week and for a lifetime.
I’m pretty much exhausted...what a few weeks it has been. I’ve made six trips to Birmingham since that Thursday afternoon phone call exactly one month ago telling me that dad was in the hospital. So many twists and turns up till a week ago.
When I left the house early last Thursday morning the news was that dad had sat up on the side of his bed the day before and had spoken a full sentence. I pack for two days planning on visiting with dad and giving Ms. Mona a night “off”. Then I was to be on Winfield where I would be a part of their 5th Quarter, back to Birmingham and on to Mid-South Youth Camp to be a part of a retreat for West 7th in Columbia.
But there was a problem. Dad’s progress continued to be so slow and they weren’t sure why. They weren’t pessimistic but they wanted to find why this perfectly healthy man had had two strokes, a heart attack, developed high blood pressure and blood clots in two weeks. Why this man who had never been in the hospital in his life was now having such a difficult time. To be honest I had convinced myself it was because he’d never taken medicine and so anytime they gave him any he reacted strongly too it. Dad didn’t even take an aspirin or any sort of pain killer.
But for two days his platelets had dropped and they thought maybe, maybe there just might be a growth in his abdomen area. And did I hear correctly that they hinted it could be cancer? Surely not.
Friday morning I was at the hospital doing one of my podcast for TheEquipNetwork.com when my son Andrew came down the hall with tears streaming down his face. I just hung up on the podcast. He told me the doc was in the room and it was not good news. I rushed to the room. It is still surreal. Dad they told us, was dying and basically there was nothing they could do. Even seeing those words today in black on my white screen they do not seem real, or possible.
Dad never regained consciousness. He opened his eyes perhaps a time or two. He groaned a few times but the next four days he slowly went down. I cannot remember a more painful time in my life. I loved being with family and we laughed and shared stories and meals but death was in the room and we all knew it.
My dad is dead. The man who was our rock, who was Mr. Consistent, the man who I believed never sinned. The voice. The answer man. The one who I never doubted could make my wrongs right - I’m not sure what that means but it rings true. I loved my mom and he passing left a hole in my heart - the person who most wanted to hear what I’d done good and the person who would defend me even when I didn’t deserve it was no longer. But with dad gone there is a certain finality to it all...
My dad is gone and I miss him already. I will not deny the faith he taught me to embrace or turn my back on the God he so tirelessly served, but I will hurt. I will laugh again...and again...and again...but I will also cry.
As people came and came and came through the “viewing” (what an ugly sounding word) line there was so much I wanted to say but all that would come were tears. I was delighted to hear the stories of so many who loved dad, so, so many who he led to the Lord. I was humbled to think of the reception he might get in heaven. And when someone would say, “you look just like him”, oh, what a compliment, my heart would nearly burst.
I/we are not sure where or how to begin to say “thanks”. Roughly 2,000 people either came to the funeral or visitation or watched online (dad would have liked that number) and between Missie, Jeff, Carey, Dan and me we got over 5,000 electronic communications. Dad touched so many lives.
I need to close this way. People have said things about our family that make us sound important and significant. And I suppose the outpouring of love would indicate a level of love and respect. BUT, let me be boldly and loudly clear. We are nothing. Christ is everything. AND we are just blessed. Blessed to be a part of HIS Family. We feel no self-righteous pride but boast in Christ and the honor to be used in His Kingdom. We feel it and we know it to be true on every level. We are not the ones doing the blessing we are the recipients of a love so much higher and grander than anything we are deserving of. And we do not feel important, we just feel blessed.
Thank you friends. Thank you father. But most of all, thank you FATHER.
P.S. I continue to love to read what my brother and sister have written. I hope you’ll check out their stuff:
http://lissalomo.tumblr.com/archive
http://jeffajenkins.com/blog/