Faith on Training Wheels
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Tombstone Diaries Part 1: Honoring a Stranger
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Tombstone Diaries Part 1: Honoring a Stranger

Sitting here talking to this marker feels like I am a part of somebody’s cruel joke. This stereotypical scene I am a part of right now feels too hurtful and surreal to be my reality. No! This crap right here belongs in somebody’s movie, not a chapter in my life. And while the truth continues to stare me in the eyes, I want to dig of hole of denial, deep enough to feel some form of comfort from this nightmare. Five months ago, I lost my father and every single day since his departure, I wish I had the opportunity to say goodbye. As I sit here cleaning off his headstone, I’m overwhelmed with memories flooding back from childhood till the last moment we spoke. 

God! I wish I had more time. 

It was said that my father and I shared an inseparable bond during my early childhood. Several relatives would tell me wherever he was, I was always with him. He was my world and I was his; I was the embodiment of a daddy’s girl. The early years we spent together were blissful. From teaching me how to hopscotch in our driveway to guiding me as I climb trees in our backyard, he would always be there cheering me on and overlooking my safety. I remember the first time he told me “you can do anything you put your mind to”, I was six years old. He handed me a shovel and allowed me to destroy our backyard, all because I wanted to dig a hole for a swimming pool. Well, at least one parent supported my actions because my mom was furious LOL. I’m not sure what my six year old self was going through at the time that I would even attempt this, but I can appreciate the lesson he was trying to instill in me. There are no limits, no restrictions, no excuses, anything is possible! 

I wish it was possible to turn back the hands of time.  As I grew older, my relationship with my father grew complicated. I wanted an explanation for the past- the things I witnessed,  I wanted to know why he chose drugs over his family,  I wanted to know EVERYTHING about him and I didn’t want him to hold anything back. He was known for being strong-willed and stubborn and I am just like him. When he would create stop signs and roadblocks during our moment of truth conversations, I would find detours and different roundabouts to attempt to get the information I thought I needed. Every discussion ended in failure and created more distance between us. Unfortunately, he decided his secrets were better suited for the grave. 

I thought it would be a challenge to honor a man I knew nothing about. After all, I would never have another opportunity to ask him questions about who he was as a man, a brother, a friend, or even about his career in the military. And yet, I was tasked with the responsibility to send him off well. There are moments in your life when you look back at an event and know for sure, you had nothing to do with the success of it. I never planned a funeral before, but my father’s final preparations leading up to the service was smooth, everything fell into place and for an extremely private man, he even had a nice crowd show to pay their respects. God’s grace was in every single detail, there was nothing that I lacked. I asked Him to hold my heart during the upcoming events, I knew not how to handle and He did more that I could ever imagine even infusing me with strength along the way. And on the day of the funeral, I had the strength to console his brother, I smiled, I laughed with friends, and when I went to the podium, out-poured words of respect, humor, and honor about the first man I ever loved. Surprisingly, it was easy to show respect to a man who didn’t give me the closure I thought I deserved. Death has a funny way of making you realize your priorities and I no longer cared about the anger or disagreements. I just wanted the opportunity to hug him one last time.

It took my father’s departure for me to learn one of the hardest lessons I struggled to grasp- needing an explanation for his life choices was NOT a prerequisite for honoring and loving the man he was. He was always worthy of love regardless of the life he chose to live.

(1) Comment

  1. It’s hard to come by well-informed people about this topic, however, you seem like you know what you’re talking about! Thanks

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