Dad

I had no idea how I was going to react to my parents passing. I knew it was inevitable. Dad was 89, Mom is 85. They won't live forever.

I never expected it to end the way it did. Dad in the hospital the last week of his life, Botsford to be exact. And the words that he said, piercing. Bitch, whore, slut, mother-fucker, I hate you, go home, you don't love me, you're gonna die, die, die, I'm going to get out of here find all your brothers and sisters and kill every one of you, kill, kill, kill. I'm going to get violent, you hear me? violent, violent, violent! Talking about my failed marriage, how stupid I was. Overwhelming. All the haunting words I have heard in the past all machined gunned at mean in one weeks time, day after day.

Then there was peace, and victory. I believe Dad saw Jesus. He told me he did. "I saw your Lord, Jesus. He was carrying your Aunt Dolly. He carried her to her grave and he laid her down there ever so gently. He's going to carry me there too and lay me down there too."

Mind-blowing really, but what I needed to hear! I feel like I miss Dad, but you know what I realized? I've missed him all my life. I have missed words of encouragement, attention and love and now that he is gone, it's like the yearning for a real dad has 10 folded! I grieve for his life, not his death. I grieve for the lack of relationship that we all had, not for what is gone. I grieve for his pain, hurt and suffering in his lifetime and it blew up in my face the last week of his life.

Dad was shackled all his life by guilt, shame and hurt. It was a vivid picture in the hospital and it killed me.

He is now set free, free from bondage because of His amazing Grace.

I love you Dad. I love you!