Farewell, Dad

As my dad rolled out of our hotel room on a stretcher and down the halls of our Holiday Inn in Huntsville, I realized that might be goodbye. “I’m sorry, dad. I love you” are the only words I could muster up.

And that has been a feeling that has crept in on me every once in a while ever since: regret. Regret about how I treated him. Regret about things I didn’t do. Regret about the day that led to his passing.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I had a mini argument earlier that morning with my dad over miscommunication, but what I did at dinner really gets me. I spent the first 10-15 minutes of our last meal together ignoring his presence, and instead compiling tweets about Sonny DiChiara not being nominated for the Golden Spikes Award.

What was my return? One or two likes on Twitter, and I surrendered several of the precious last minutes with my dad. How stupid could I be?!

Most days, I can focus on the good times we shared together, but some days, the way I treated him and those who hold special places in my heart as so insignificant eats at me.

“That’s what I get,” I tell myself.

But then I’m reminded that that’s the voice of the devil and not God. God doesn’t hold those things against me and neither does my dad. God is forgiving, merciful, gracious and kind.

Then, I am reminded of the prodigal son. Even though all he wanted was to take his dad’s money and hit the road, the dad celebrated upon his son’s return. I think if I saw him right now, he’d give me a big hug and not be mad at me for the way I treated him in those moments that I regret. He might not even remember them in the grand scheme of things.

My dad was always forgiving and understanding: I have no doubt that his love for me never died out — as I said in my post “Love without end, Amen.”

While I remind myself to listen to God’s words and not the devil’s, I also know that this was a lesson in life that I had to learn: life isn’t guaranteed. I will no longer hold those I love at a distance. I will appreciate those I still have with me every day.

So as I pray to God tonight, I will thank Him for my mom, my sister, my brother, my grandparents, my cousins, my friends and everyone else who I’m lucky enough to do life with.

I love you Dad. Thanks for showing me how to live rightly.