Today marks the third week since my father's passing. The first week was one of the hardest of my short existence on this earth. Since I was still on break from college and I am the only one of siblings without a family of my own to care for, I therefore took upon myself the task of organizing a memorial service for my dad. I did this to spare my already busy siblings, but I did not expect to learn or grow so much in one week. Becca and I went through my dad's belongings and found his journal. In it I discovered my father that I had never taken the time to get to know before. For most of my life I've been angry and bitter towards him for things he didn't do, but really I should have seen what he did do. I learned, through reading, how much he loved me. Although he was well read and versed, my dad did not have a very effective way of expressing himself. I have always believed that actions speak louder than words and as a result I didn't believe him when he said he loved me. But in looking at his actions, I forgot to listen to what he was saying. I now know that my daddy truly did love me, more than I ever cared to admit while he was alive.
Since I was planning everything, I got extremely stressed out, but I think in so doing, I grew up. I thought I was mature and grown up just because I was nineteen and in college and had some tough times in High School. But now I know that the worst is yet to come. My life so far has been a cake walk compared to what the future holds. But, surprisingly, I'm okay with that. In my dad's death, I also grew closer to my Heavenly Father who listens when I speak, who answers when I call, and he also weeps whenever my tears fall. Through my savior's sacrifice, I will see my dad again and I will wrap my arms around him and tell him how much I love him.
Yes, losing a parent is tragic, but forgetting who you are and how to live is a horrible result that should never appear. I have been beating myself up with guilt for things I didn't say, but there were still things I did say that mattered. I saw my dad the day before he died and I gave him a hug and told him I loved him. And although it may seem trivial, I feel comfort knowing that we parted in love.
