I wish you were here. For mostly selfish reasons, though I do wish you could have had the chance to really know the life-saving grace of Jesus. I wish you could meet your grand kids. Did you ever imagine that you could have six?! And only one of them is a boy:) I wish you could see your curly hair on my girls. It’s gorgeous. Now I know why you always wanted to take me to the salon to get mine fixed…it’s a gift to have hair like this! I wish you could meet my husband. He would have been so warm and gracious to you, welcoming and accepting. Because that’s the way he is with me. I wish I had the chance to say “I love you.” I really wanted to say that to you the last time I saw you. But, I was young and angry and hurt and afraid and unaware of how truly fleeting this life is. Nor did I understand how powerful forgiveness is. I’m sorry I spent all day cleaning your kitchen instead of holding your hand and asking you questions. Like what your favorite book was or color or food. Or whether you ever wished you could go back and make different choices. I wish I could have told you how much fun I had with you when I was little…eating peanut butter and jelly in the middle of the night, singing the Bee Gees music into a hair brush, you letting me fix your hair over and over again–it really is great hair, Dad!
Really, Dad, I wish you could have had peace. And joy. I don’t understand most of the choices you made in your life. In fact, it took me a long time to learn to forgive you without understanding you. I know you struggled with things I can’t imagine. And, I know you felt like you were protecting me from yourself. It was the only sort of love you knew how to give. I wish someone had taught you about Real Love–the kind that only comes from the Lord. I wish I could tell you about it now. I have faith that somehow, He did reach out to you in those last days and hours and you were able to understand. I hope I see you in eternity, and though I know the focus isn’t on us but on Christ, I hope He lets us at least embrace each other.
Dad, I miss you but I trust God and His wisdom in your departure. I do love you…