The Missing Man

Today would have been my dad's 87th birthday. I used to wonder why people would take out advertisements in the newspaper on the birthday or death anniversary of a loved one. I'd think, "Haven't they gotten over it by now?"

I know the answer now, is NO, they haven't.

No, I haven't either.

The weird thing is that my dad is in my dreams at least once a week. Prior to his death 18 months ago, I rarely, rarely dreamt about him. What does that mean? For me, it means I not only miss him but that he is visiting me and reassuring me he is watching over me.

Another sign happened today. If you believe in "goochers" (as I call those coincidences) and such...

I worked at the home office today since we had parent-teacher conferences in the afternoon. During the day, hubby typically has the TV in the living room playing music from the Classic Country station. Suddenly, around lunch time, the song "Why Me, Lord" by Kris Kristofferson came on. Due to his struggles and triumphs in life, that was one of my dad's favorite songs. And one that was performed beautifully at his funeral.

Why me, Lord 
What have I ever done to deserve even one of the pleasures I've known
Tell me, Lord, what did I ever do
That was worth loving you or the kindness you've shown
Lord help me Jesus, I've wasted it so 
Help me Jesus, I know what I am
Now that I know that I've needed you so
Help me Jesus, my soul's in your hand

Try me, Lord
If you think there's a way I can try to repay all I've taken from you
Maybe, Lord, I can show someone else what I've been through myself
On my way back to you
Lord help me Jesus...
Lord help me Jesus...
Jesus my soul's in your hand

I read somewhere that the hard thing about losing a loved one is that grief lasts longer than sympathy. And for me, the hard thing is that when you think it's finally gone, grief sneaks up on you, disguising itself in the form of a photo, a memory or a song.

Then you drain your tear ducts, grab a box of tissues and feel grateful you had the kind of bond that makes you still miss them.

That's a blessing in disguise.