Dear dad,
It's been 10 days since you left us. 10 days of silence . . . emptiness . . . longing. 10 days since the music in my soul died. I keep thinking that this is all just a bad dream; that one day soon I'll awake to your smiling face again. The idea that you won't be around anymore to make me laugh or smile or contemplate the things of this world, this life, God, etc. just doesn't seem real to me. It's almost like you're on vacation so I continue to live each day with the hope that you'll return and I'll see you soon . . . it's just not sinking in that you're gone . . . departed from this earthly life for good.
I often find myself wondering what you're doing in heaven. What it's like. What you see/hear/smell/feel/touch. Are you playing on a golden piano? Or directing an angelic choir while singing & making the most heavely music to the Lord? Are you dining on all the delicious foods that you wouldn't allow yourself to eat here on earth while engaging in a captivating conversation with Paul (your favorite biblical figure)? Do you peek in on us from time to time to make sure we're doing okay without you here? I like to think that you're watching over me all the time, taking care of me from afar, guiding my decisions when I feel so very lost without you. Each night I fall asleep with your t-shirt tucked up under my face, slowly breathing you in as I drift off to sleep (something I've done very little of since you've been gone). I took all your favorite t-shirts and brought them back home with me. I'm in the process of making a t-shirt quilt for all of us to lay under when we long to feel you nearby. Somehow just the concept of being "wrapped up in you" is such a sweet comfort to my soul.
What causes me the most heartbreak is knowing that my children will never have the opportunity to really know their beloved Chachi! I just can't imagine trying to raise my family without your support, guidance, or unconditional love. I cannot comprehend that they will never play with you, go on family vacations with you, or experience Christmas morning with you. It just seems so unfair. My most earnest plea over the last few years is that God would let you live long enough to meet my children. For the life of me, I will never truly understand His timing. So many questions come to mind: why would He allow us to struggle for
6 years to start a family if He knew your time on earth was short? why would he choose to end our pregnancy early if you weren't going to be around to experience the next one? why didn't He just sustain you both for a few more months??? We were so close. I'm so thankful that I have that treasured memory of Christmas morning when I shared with you the unexpected news of our pregnancy. That memory is a gift to me. But it's nothing compared to the dreams I had of seeing you hold my children for the very first time, with that proud gleam in your eye and smile on your face exclaiming the news that you were finally a "chachi" once again! I wanted you to be around long enough to witness our miracle so badly. I guess, in an ironic kind of way, I did get the answer I was praying for. I like to imagine that the moment you approached heaven's gates, my precious little one was waiting there to meet you. I imagine that he took you by the hand and said "let's go see Jesus". And it makes me happy to know that you are there together. But how I long for you both to be here with me instead.
I never fully understood or appreciated how much you loved me until you were gone. I don't think I even realized how much light and joy you added to my life until it all went away. I just assumed that every daughter had that kind of special relationship with their father - so caring, so loving, so engaging - so I took advantage of that every day of my life . . . I didn't understand that you & I were "special". And now the days are dark and sad . . . I'm just going through the motions of everyday life. I'm numb and I don't feel joy anymore. It's too quiet without your presence or random "dad-isms" that would make us all laugh. I just miss you so much.
Whenever my heart would break, you were the person I wanted to turn to to pick up the pieces - and you did that so well. You would let me rant and cry while simply holding me in your arms and gently reminding me that oftentimes we wouldn't understand the things of this life, but God always knew what He was doing and that you both loved me despite it all. I know it would bring comfort to your soul to know that Chris has also become that person for me, but nothing can replace the loving arms of a father.
Each day i wake up and hope to be a little bit stronger than the day before. It's become quite clear that this process is going to take a long while. It will never seem real to me that you're gone. And I plan to do everything I can to remind myself that you are still here, in spirit, sharing in this life with me. I choose for you to remain alive in my soul and be flooded with the memories that you are I share together.
I love you, dad. Your time on earth was too short and there's so much I still want to share with you. But there's freedom in knowing that your pain and struggles are gone and you are dancing with joy before the awesome throne of God, our Savior! I will see you again soon. Until then, keep on watching over us from heaven and help us to feel you presence with us everyday.
