Missing My Dad

August 17, 2012 was the last time I ever got to talk to my dad. It was his 60^th birthday and I called to wish him a happy birthday. He was driving with my mom and brother up to Canada for their annual fishing trip. One I always regretted not being able to go on since, as a teacher, school was just starting back. He was in such a good mood that day, teasing me on the phone like he usually does.

On August 25, 2012, my brother called me to tell me they had a car accident on their way home. My dad didn’t make it. He had been sleeping in the back seat of the car and had died on impact. The events of that day are still so fresh and real in my memory. I fear that they will haunt me for the rest of my life.

There is hardly an hour that goes by each day that I don’t think about my dad and miss him with all my heart. He was the greatest dad that anyone could ever ask for. He taught me so much growing up. He didn’t want his daughters to be wimpy girls without a clue. My sister and I both know a lot about using tools and doing projects around the house thanks to him. He taught us to be independent and strong women. He used to say, especially to my sister who is a missionary in Africa, that maybe he taught us to be a little too independent. But I surprise people with how much I know about fishing, camping, and hunting. I may seem like a girly girl, but my favorite memories growing up with my dad is being in the outdoors.

Throughout this year, I have experienced so many firsts without him. The biggest one is Daniel and I buying our first house. Dad was supposed to be a big part of helping us fix it up. Especially with the gardening, which Dad and I did together since I was a little girl. I hate that there will be so many things he will miss out by no longer being here. Never getting to be a grandpa, walking my sister down the aisle, seeing my brother finish with the army and get married someday, traveling with my mom like they were planning as soon as she retires. There are so many things he should be part of in our lives still. We all feel the pain of his lose so greatly.

The comfort I do have is that I know that Dad woke up in heaven. He didn’t feel a thing from the accident but woke up to find himself with Jesus. I know that my dad wouldn’t want us to cry over him and I know that he also misses us as well. But he is waiting for us and we will see him again. I can’t wait to get one of my dad’s big bear hugs and hear him call me “kid” again. I can’t promise not to cry over him but it is only because I love him so much. I take my comfort in the arms of Jesus and the promise of eternal life with Him in heaven. It just doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt that he is gone. It will always hurt but that is part of grief.