You will think this is about to be a humorous post. One focusing on how Rob and I take out the trash much more often than we used to. Our six “take-out-the-trashers” have whittled down to one. Mom and Dad often pitch in.
It was my turn. I took out the trash. And on my way down the driveway, with my iPhone flashlight showing me the way in the dark, I became perfectly still.
I couldn’t have walked if I wanted to. My life was there. I was taking out the trash and my heart erupted in joy. Why?
I believe it was because our beautiful home was shining right behind me. Our home that has protected those six children was right there in shadow yet more bright than ever.
Tonight, I took out the trash and brought my life into clear view.
Recently dear friends Dads passed away and each asked if they would ever get over it. Today, on Father’s Day I share my answer;
You will never have a life without your Dad. He is right around the corner. He is in every breath your child blows upon your cheek at night as they close their eyes to sleep. Your Dad is holding your hand right now. Can you feel it?
See that rainbow just behind the cloud? Know that nagging feeling when you know you shouldn’t be doing something – yep that’s him too. Dad is giving you his two cents and then some. Dad is laughing when you swear because your car won’t start. Dad is howling when you slip and fall and look to see if no one is watching.
Dad is reaching for your hair right now. He’s brushing it back from your face. Hey see that grin your kids get right when they do something naughty? Yep – he’s right behind it. Feel your heart burst with pride as they grab their diploma, marry their sweetheart, he is the fireworks inside.
Look in your your husband’s eyes – the man you married and know how the same eyes shine with pride and love right through to you. My God you will miss his physical presence. Not a day will go by that you won’t want to hear that laugh or “dad tone” and yet deep inside, with each success you have in your life, and each tiny misstep you just know he is there. Holding. Reaching. Caring. Loving. Just being the Dad that is yours alone.
It’s been 18 years since my Dad died on a beautiful August day. Will I ever get on with my life without my Dad? My Dad is always with me. Here is is in living color: Robert J. Jarman