This post might be the hardest one I've ever had to write, because I haven't typed (or written) out the words yet, that my dad passed away. He had been sick and pretty much immobile for the past 14 years since his stroke when I was 15. I have no doubts he is in heaven, with a healed body, running, eating, playing guitar and tennis, and all of the things he wasn't able to do for a long time.
But knowing that still doesn't make it easy. It makes it manageable. I honestly don't know how atheists deal when someone close to them dies. Or Christians deal with an non-believer who is close to them dies. It must be unbearable.
I am blessed to have God's grace in my life. And in my dad's life. He was with him the whole time, through all the suffering, and now my dad has met him face to face, soul to soul.
There are countless things I will miss about my dad. I took care of him full-time for two years of his life, and we had some really fun times. Hard times too, but lots of good times. He kept his sense of humor right until the end. He also kept his selflessness. Even when he was dying, he told me, my mom and my sister, that we could watch the Bruce Jenner interview on TV instead of listening to country music. Anyone who knows my dad knows he would have rather listened to country any day over watching that interview.
There are thousands of stories like this, when he put his family's wants over his own. And did this without complaining. I don't know any person who was like him.
I'm not going to go into more details about the past 14 years (you can read my last post about my dad here), it's too hard right at this moment.
But I want there to be a takeaway from this post, and judging by how many people showed up for his funeral, I know he influenced a lot of people.
So I think what my dad would say is this. Never give up.