Thursday, September 20, 2012

I'm sorry. I'm not sorry.

At 3:03 this afternoon I sent this to my mom in a text:
"And you'd rather do it this way than the way he was trying for on that day."

That day, already an entire month ago, being the day my dad's sweet brain became overwhelmed and he lost touch with reality. He thought people were out to get him, some of those people being us -his family. He wanted it to end. And his solution had become to withdrawal from us.

Who cares how. Or when. Or why.
 All I care about is his failure in doing so.

In sharing our news with friends and family, they seem to look on us with pity and shower us with sorries. And while we appreciate the sweet words and sentiments, we all feel so odd being sorry about the new course our life has taken. Somehow in the shadow of the way my dad has ailed, the years of sadness and fighting, and our newfound love and zest for life after his emergency, our new normal seems perfect. 

There are things for which I'm sorry.

I'm sorry we didn't do things bigger earlier in life. But I'm not sorry he's going to head to heaven earlier than we planned. I'm sorry I let the little things bug hormonal, high-school me when I should have been loving on him. But I'm not sorry I get this blessed time to spend with him before he goes home to His Heavenly Father.

I'm sorry that I'm not sorry about death.

Knowing his brain will be restored, his body cleaned of the ravaging bugs inside of him makes me joyful for him. His masterful business brain will be back. His wits restored. His dry sarcasm enjoyed by all his heavenly hosts.
I'm sorry that I'm not sorry about my dad dying.

I have never been to a funeral. Not once. I've never experienced death. Did I imagine my first time would my dad's? No. But we have this beautiful moment of time where we know he's going to die and we can soak up every little morsel of joy with him. Through this time of transition, I have come to see bits and pieces of God's greatness. And that makes my heart swell with pride. I know my dad's untimely passing (whenever it does occur) is going to be a beautiful -brutiful- occasion where God will sit among us. And, I believe, for a few hours, God will come nearer to us as He welcomes home a good and faithful man while we bid him farewell.

I'm not sorry he's headed to His Father's home.

There's this glorious place dad will be going. I just know it. In fact, a little piece of me is jealous that He gets in on the God-paradise before me. But, a big, HUGE part of me can't wait to live out his leagacy. I already know when it's my time to join him in Heaven, he will be up there heading some of God's greatest projects. He'll make sure the floors are flat, the concrete mixed just right, and the laborers (though I imagine they have a cooler name in heaven) getting what they deserve for their hard work.

I'm not sorry we'll be here to honor him and, more importantly, Him.

1 comment:

  1. I'm sorry for not being able to give you a real hug but I'm not sorry for sending you a million virtual hugs right now!!

    Your positivity and faith amaze me special girl x


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