2017...I know exactly why it's so hard to let go of you.
When you were young, he was still here, although very old. Yet, from his bashful mind came clear, sweet colloquies about real life and fairytales. Camping in the California mountains, baseball games, tea parties and storybooks and school carnivals. Ferris wheels and candy apples in autumn. He had not forgotten all of it.
Dad left in November, although his frail body would persevere until mid-December, his mind took it’s leave of us first. I knew he had been taken hostage when he could not recall the sobriquet he granted me the day of my birth. My heart broke into some jillion tiny fragments, stabbing my soul with their shards. Dad didn’t answer another phone call from me after that day, because he couldn’t remember how to use a telephone.
Early after his diagnosis he asked, “Bonbon, what do I do when I can’t remember my own name?”
“Just remember we love you.”
“Then you remember that, too, alright? Lisabon, I won’t forget you on purpose, so, you remember that I love you, alright?”
“I will. Promise.”
I will keep the promise, and I will remember. I will not grieve forever or without hope. Because even with all his frailties, flaws and shortcomings he believed that on lonely Calvary there died a Savior. He trusted that one act of pure love was enough to save his soul.
We had a lot in common. We were both ambidextrous, we both loved horses and dogs. We both loved fishing, country western music, and John Wayne movies.
He was as far from perfect as I, and even if we had nothing else in common, it was our desperate need for a Savior.
I trust, I know, I will see my father again. Therefore, I have hope amidst these now relenting tears.
Birds still sing, sun still shines, snow still falls, children still laugh.
So, I will live my life like every day is the last, embracing the new like a baby fresh from God. Relinquishing the past like a stone across a lake, skip-skip-skipping until inertia abandons it’s claim.
Hello 2018, and welcome to my life! It’s nice to meet you, shall we be friends? May I whisper my hopes and dreams in your ears?
I place you in God’s hands, and I am safe.