Easter took on new meaning for me after dad passed away. I missed him, and wished so badly that I could see him again, to feel his arms around me once more, to kiss him, and tell him how thankful I was that he was my dad.
I may have been a sweet little girl, I can't remember way back then, but as I grew up I didn't know how to show dad I loved him. I told him I did, but I couldn't think of things talk about when we were alone, and I wasn't gushy and cute like other girls. It's not that I was disrespectful or hard to get along with, in fact I always agreed to whatever dad asked and said I would do whatever he told me to do. I just didn't always do it. Like the time we were camping on the beach in Mexico and dad told me to wear a shirt over my swimming suit. Why? I figured dad was just being dad, so when he couldn't see me any more I took my shirt off. I figured out why he wanted me to wear a shirt later, when I couldn't sleep on my back or sides because of my sunburn.
Six years ago, when dad decided he and mom should move out of the Valley to live up north I thought he had gone crazy. He thought it would be better for mom to live close to my sister's husband, who is a doctor, since her health was so bad. At first I was surprised, then I was upset. How could mom and dad leave our home, our friends, everything we knew, and move to a small town so far away? The day they moved was one of the worst days of my life. Little did I know that less than 6 months later Moe and I would be following them up to this wonderful town, and how happy we would be! Thank goodness dad decided to move!
Then we lost dad. Less than a year after moving here he slipped on the ice and hit his head, causing a hemorrhage that almost killed him. Although he survived the accident it accelerated the dementia which he died from. Within a few months dad wasn't able to remember where he was, and shortly after that he was no longer able to care for himself. Mom worked herself almost to death, and finally our family had to make the difficult decision to put dad in a nursing home to save mother's health. Every morning we would pick dad up and bring him home to spend the day with mom, then take him back in the afternoon. Dad would sit in the car and look straight ahead, not realizing where he was or what I was doing, but I would talk to him and tell him about things that were happening in our family. One day as we drove I felt an overpowering urge to tell dad how much I loved him, and to apologize for not being a sweeter, better daughter. I knew dad couldn't comprehend what I was saying, but I hoped somehow that his spirit was hearing what I so wanted him to understand.
A few months later dad passed away. It was hard to let him go, and yet we were happy he had not suffered or lingered on and on. The day of dad's funeral, after the service and a lovely luncheon with our family and friends, we went back to mom's house. People had sent many lovely flower arrangements, and mom and I decided it would be nice to take one to the nursing home where dad had stayed. Everyone was busy, so I put it in my car and drove it over by myself. As I drove down the street, the same route I had driven so many times in the past few months with dad, I suddenly became aware of a different spirit in the car. I knew, although I'll never be able to explain how, that dad was there beside me one more time. This time as I told him thank you, and how much I loved him, I knew he heard me.
I am so thankful for my dad. For his love, for his example, his teachings, his patience, his kindness, and just for him being my dad. I love him so much. And today, on Easter, I thank my Heavenly Father for the gift of His Son, and for the promise that because Jesus was resurrected, we will all be resurrected as well. Some day I will be reunited with my dad, and mom, and all of my loved ones, and we will never have to say goodbye again. That is what Easter is all about.
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