One year ago this evening my Dad was struggling to stay alive. He was riding in an ambulance on his way to a Wichita hospital. He died in it, probably on the side of the road or in the Kingman hospital parking lot. I don’t know. I only saw him after, in that hospital, laying on the bed. A life-less being.
This evening I was sitting at my computer. I had just read the post of the speech I gave at his memorial service. I looked up at the clock. It’s ironic. What I just read and the clock showing only minutes before they called his time of death a year ago.
The tears are not falling. They are not coming. They are put away. They are not at the forefront today. I haven’t shared on Facebook or even mentioned to my spouse the date. A couple cards came in the mail remembering and my sister text me sending love and I went about my day. They were very much appreciated and needed. My emotions were sensitive and I fell apart while vacuuming the bathroom today, feeling overwhelmed with it all.
I think that God had the best plan for me tonight. I’m not spending it with my family or in bed weeping. I’m spending it with a group of ladies that bring me joy and support without even knowing it most of the time. Two or three will be gathered tonight so our Lord will be present for sure. I will be wrapped in His arms and His love via sisters in Christ.
The Lord knows best what I need today on the anniversary of my Dad’s death. I am grateful.
Before I fall asleep I will close my eyes and remember my Dad’s hugs, his hands, his smile. I think he would have liked it that way.
Grace is a gift,