Listen to the audio version Jane’s essay.
For 20+ years, we had an annual tradition with my parents. They would visit us for 3 weeks in Arizona, to share Thanksgiving & 3 birthdays…one of which was my dad’s. He was a man who took great pleasure in celebrating little things. It went without saying that he took the girls out for an ice cream cone. He arrived with his M&M container full, ready to shake it as he walked down the hall. They’d come running! I always had coffee with him, at least one time, in the corner booth at the Target concessions. He could hear better with a wall behind him so it became our spot to catch up on pertinent details. It always amazed me how he remembered, & remained interested, in our busy schedule! He & Steve had a longstanding mealtime joke. Whoever remembered first, would set the other’s place at the table with a platter, cooking utensils for silverware, & a pitcher in place of the glass. Dad would haul out our yardstick to measure the cutting of dessert portions. (I have pictures!) Goofy? Sure. But it knit their hearts tight. It went without saying that I would bake a pan of apple pie bars for his birthday. Along with his cup of black coffee, he would savor every piece and s-t-r-e-t-c-h out his enjoyment of them, as many days as possible.
My dad hated goodbyes. But he always handled them the same way. Back then, you could still accompany people to the gate in airports. The girls would be all over Dad & Mom, sitting & hugging them until the last minute. When boarding was announced, Dad would pull me into a hug, plant a sloppy kiss on my cheek, and say, “This is the hard part.” We would stand & watch them walk down the hall into the plane. Just before going in, he would turn & wave…without fail. That was Dad, sure & steady in his quiet manner…always holding dear the traditions that marked his life. We were excited with the knowledge that we had finally convinced Dad & Mom to become “snowbirds,” & stay with us for 2 months, in the years ahead.
At that time, I was reading an autobiography, by Amy George, entitled GOODBYE IS NOT FOREVER. It is her account of separation from her father, from infancy through early adulthood, because of the ravages of WWII. When I came home from the airport that December day, I picked up the book since I was nearing its end & had time to read before preparing dinner. I won’t reveal the whole story in case you might want to check it out. But I was in tears as she described her farewell to her father. She never saw him, alive, again.
I never saw Dad alive again, either. He passed away unexpectedly in early Spring the following year. He had gotten up to use the bathroom. My Mom heard a loud thump when he fell to the floor. And he was gone. No health issues. No forewarnings. The paramedics said one minute he was alive, the next he wasn’t. He had no pain. God was gracious even in death. Dad didn’t have to say his dreaded goodbyes. The blessing in all of this is two-fold: First & foremost, our goodbyes that cold December day weren’t forever either. I will see him again. And secondly, we parted with no regrets between us. There was no pretense, no unresolved “elephants in the room” as they say. Job 14:5 was my mainstay at that time and has been ever since. “Since his days are determined, the number of his months is with Thee, and his limits Thou hast set so that he cannot pass.” Nothing I could have said or done would have changed God’s timing in bringing dad to Himself. And I was thankful to be free in my memories &, therefore, free in my grieving.
We have often discussed the irony of how we eulogize people after they’re gone. We tend to remember what we loved about them & overlook their fleshly foibles. Only, they never hear it. We can’t assume people know what we think. What would happen if we lived life reversed, & shared these eulogies while people were still alive? What difference would it make in our relationships? How would it make you feel as the giver? Or the receiver?
The only thing that can hinder us in expressing this gratitude face to face, before it’s too late, is unforgiveness. If it festers long enough, it will produce a stronghold of bitterness that will eat you alive…on the inside. You can’t profess to love God if you don’t love others. It’s the evidence of your relationship with Him, or not. God loved us first & gave us the life of Christ to prove that, even when we didn’t give a hoot about Him! Though we have no natural ability on our own to love, He loves through us as we die to selfish “me first” responses. Dying doesn’t necessarily FEEL good, but it IS good, as part of being daily sanctified.
The book of I John reads like a training manual on this topic. In chapter 3, verses 14 & 15, it states “…He who does not love abides in death. Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer; and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him.” Simply stated, you can’t have a pattern of hate in your life and profess to know Christ at the same time. God said that. I did not. Sometimes we just don’t want to be honest with ourselves. Or we’re too prideful to admit that we have a problem loving that is rooted in unforgiveness. BUT God is ALWAYS after our hearts first, as opposed to us playing the blame game.
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