This morning between 4-5am my father passed from this world into the next. It happened fast and was at least unexpected so soon. I can't really believe he's gone. I've had my moments this morning from tears to anger. In my preparation for my father's death, because I knew it would come at some point this year, I had convinced myself I wouldn't have any regrets or guilt...but damn it all because the regret and guilt hit me like a fuckin' hurricane this morning.
I spoke to my father briefly as they were putting him in the ambulance this morning. I asked him how he was and he said he was ok and that they were taking him to Sacred Heart. I assumed he was having a panic attack, he had been getting those lately so much so that the doctor had prescribed what my dad affectionatly called his "crazy pills", so from there I drove to the hospital because I knew my sister was already there waiting. I regret that I didn't tell him I loved him one last time. It wasn't a mean thing I just thought everything for the most part was ok.
This is going to be one long week.
I miss my dad.
I know now that he is in the presence of our Savior. I don't want this to be a cliche idea for me. I want to live my life this week with the full realization of this truth.
THE VALLEY SONG
(SING OF YOUR MERCY)
You have led me to the sadness
i have carried this pain
on a back bruised, nearly broken
i'm crying out to You
i will sing of Your mercy
that leads me through valleys of sorrow
to rivers of joy
when death, like a gypsy
comes to steal what i love
i will still look to the heavens
i will still seek your face
but i fear You aren't listening
because there are no words
just the stillness
and the hunger
for a faith that assures
i will sing of Your mercy
that leads me through valleys of sorrow
to rivers of joy
alleluia, alleluia
alleluia, alleluia
while we wait for rescue
with our eyes tightly shut
face to the ground using our hands
to cover the fatal cut
though the pain is an ocean
tossing us around, around, around
You have calmed greater waters
higher mountains have come down
i will sing of Your mercy
that leads me through valleys of sorrow
to rivers of joy
i will sing of Your mercy
that leads me through valleys of sorrow
to rivers of joy
alleluia, alleluia
alleluia, alleluia
Words and music by Aaron Sands, Dan Haseltine, Charlie Lowell, Stephen Mason,and Matt Odmark (C) 2003 Innocent Smith/ASCP )adm. by The Loving Company)/Bridge Building Music, Inc. /Pogostick Music (BMI). All rights administered by Brentwood-Benson Music Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.
4 comments:
You and your entire family have been in my prayers since we spoke this morning.
BTW, that's defintely one of my favorite songs. Grateful it was written.
Hello, J.H.,
I've enjoyed your blog and I am sorry for your loss. May I ask, was your father a salesman? If he is the man I am thinking of, I want you to know, he was once very helpful to my family.
The store was packed with shoppers who, like us, were in need of appliances and supplies destroyed in the hurricane. The gentleman in question might well have made additional sales in the time he gave to two shoppers in distress. He chose to serve an elderly lady who was suffering from the heat and not feeling very well.
While he was tending to her, a child fell down on the escalator approach and scraped her leg. I'm sure company policy dictates immediate attention and address to injuries for legal protection, among other reasons. But the man whom I think might have been your father, went far beyond those concerns in his care and comfort of the crying child.
With all the chaos happening around him, this gentleman (who was assigned from another department and so, was not familiar with the stock) still managed to sell my family an air conditioner to replace the one smashed in the storm and never once lost his cool, but remained helpful and polite to all who were standing in line that day.
I'm sure he had his own troubles; his own hurricane debris and clean-up to attend to, along with all the other smaller concerns of everyday life. If he was your father, I fear he might already have been suffering silently from the early stages of his illness. No one would have guessed any of it from witnessing how patient and generous he was that day.
Though my family and I had met him only an hour before, my mother and I gave him a big hug before we said our goodbyes. We were never to see him again. The last time we shopped there, we asked after him, but were told he had retired.
There are many ways a person can influence and inspire the lives of others. This man - the salesman - was a calming influence in a sea of confusion and misery that day. People were hot, tired and frustrated, but he managed to help every one of us.
I hope my comment is not intrusive. If I've mistaken the salesman for your dad, please feel free to delete my comment. If he was your dad, I'm happy to have borne witness to his goodness and to be given the opportunity to share this with you - that one hour in the company of a soul I shall never forget.
Again, my sincerest condolence.
Terry
Yes my father was a salesman. I am interested as to how you made that connection.
Thank you for your words. While I can't be 100% sure that the person you met that day was my father, it does sound like him.
Thanks again!
Thank you for responding. Now that you've said he was a salesman, I know that the man we met was indeed, your father. How did I make the connection? In an earlier entry, you wrote a wonderful article, "Times Like These", that I believe begs for a wider readership. I deeply wish you would submit it as an op/ed piece to the Pensacola News Journal. It was written under your full name and I remembered that was the name of our salesman. I am only sorry that I missed your Dad's obituary in the paper. I would have liked to have it. In your concern for your fellow man, the apple apparently fell very close to the tree. It's nice to know another is on "it's" way.
May the Lord bless you and your family.
Terry
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