One of the greatest joys in my life is writing these posts for you all. My dad was one of my top 3 favorite people in my life. He was the first man I ever loved and this June, it will be two years since he’s been gone. The word on the web is that “time heals all wounds”. It doesn’t.
Today is harder than yesterday and ten times harder than the day before that. Grief doesn’t consume my life, I wear it as constant as my wedding band. It’s a large part of my story and I cannot put that away or diminish it over time. Grief hurts because a piece of who I am is missing. Never on this earth will that piece of myself come back to me. Acceptance of that is hard, but I’ve done it. I still just really hate it.
When I preached Dad’s funeral, I recounted his love for words. He said them all the time and he wrote them everywhere. He’d order pizza for my college roommates and I and ask the delivery man to tell us that he loved us. I have a wallet full of his business cards that he would write all kinds of encouraging notes on and leave all over my car, room and dining room table.
At the end of my eulogy of Dad, I remember saying that if you wanted someone to know you loved them, you had to say it. Not in a text or an email or even for the world to see on a social media account. No, if you want someone to know you love them, you have to write it down. Preferably, write it out in your handwriting and leave it for them.
Out of the many, many people there that day, someone took me up on it. They actually went back home, took out paper and wrote me a letter. It was from a business associate of Dad’s. He described how Dad loved him well throughout the years, more than just a business colleague, but as a friend. To this day, it is one of my most treasured possessions.
Dad left a legacy of love. I live it out every single day. It’s how he would want to be remembered and how I want those I love to remember me. How is it that you want to be remembered?