Yesterday on the way back to my mother’s house (a 3 hour drive southeast into the Appalachian mountains) when taking her back home after a month of medical tests, appointments and adjustments, I made an unexpected stop along the way. We drove up on the hillside of a huge cemetery where most of our family is buried, including my father.
This photo is what it looks like from where I sat on the ground beside his grave. The tombstone isn’t placed in yet, but there was an old, American flag and a little plastic, mount displaying the dates of my dad’s birth and death along with his photograph. Once I made it up the hill, I couldn’t just stand there. I sat down on the ground, on the grass beside where my dad was laid to rest. I talked to him, like many people do when visiting the graves of loved ones. I have no clue if he could hear me from Heaven above, or if God allows that, but I released my pain. I cried. I’ve been grieving for almost 3 months now.
Finally, I prayed before getting up and going back down the hill to the car. I thanked the Father for all of the great memories and times spent with dad while he was here. I gave him thanks with all my heart that my dad is no longer suffering. He’s no longer bound in bed, without legs at the nursing facility where he couldn’t even watch the little TV on the wall. No more horrible 4 hour Dialysis days. However, he did have something that he looked forward to. My dad always finished every meal while there and then some! He really loved to eat and it brought him some comfort, to expect.
This was truly a blessing. A bit of extra closure-type feeling. That evening at the hospital on June 7th, I was there with my hands patting his chest, rubbing his chest that was covered with medical tubes and such. I gave him my consent to go on. I don’t know if he needed it, but I wanted him to know that we would all be okay and that he was about to meet Jesus, looking down at a new set of legs. With my mother and sister at his bed side before he passed, he was surrounded by the important women of his life. I believe his spirit heard me despite the unresponsive body and brain activity.
I’m thankful that I was able to have such a great daddy for many, many years. He loved me so much. I know he would tell me to hang on to the Lord and cry no more.