Saturday, June 2, 2012

Dearest God,

You have my father and all his siblings.  Today would have been his 88th birthday.

When I was a little girl, I thought my father was a giant, all six foot three and a half inches.  I used to put on his size 13 shoes and clop around the house.  Sometimes I would sit on his big foot, put my arms around his calf, and he would walk me from room to room.  There were moments when music was playing Daddy would take me in his arms and dance with me.  I was so happy.

When my grandmother told me about you, she would talk about her Heavenly Father.  I imagined him like my own father.  That was the first way you wooed me to your side.  I loved you from the first.

My last memorable moments with Daddy was when he was in the nursing home and I asked him to dance with me to the music playing overhead.  Since two other couples were also dancing in the lounge, Daddy took my hand and we danced the only dance movement he knew, the box step.  Even after the music stopped because he was nearly deaf, we kept on dancing making little boxes all over the room.  I didn't tell him because I wanted the moment to last forever.

Today in my mind I remember and celebrate the life of my father.  He wasn't perfect.  He made a lot of mistakes.  Yet, on his birthday I recall to mind the gift he was to me and how his gentle kindness early on spoke volumes about you.

Thank you,
dearest God,
for good memories.
Thank you
for gifts
that truly do
keep on giving.
Thank you
for my dad
and my
heavenly father.

Love, Andy