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A time for sleep, a time to weep, a time wonder

Sleep eludes me as my head is swimming in thought, and my heart experiencing a sadness of a depth I’ve not experienced before. I think I can sum much of it up with the following enumeration:

  • When I was 8 days old, I didn’t even know I was alive
  • When I was 80 days old, I only knew enough to know I needed my parents to help me eat, sleep and wipe my nose
  • When I was 8 years old, I knew all the essentials but thought I knew more, but still admired my parents
  • when I was 18 years old, I thought I knew everything and that my parents didn’t get it
  • when I was 28 years old, I realized my parents were right about everything
  • When I was 38 years old, I realized what an idiot I had been to my parents
  • At I’m 48 years old, I an shocked by how much help my parents need me to eat, sleep and wipe their nose

There is an ache in my heart of a depth beyond any comprehensible way of describing. I fact this feeble attempt is nothing more than hitting a relief valve so my brain doesn’t explode with:

  • Memories of my father at all stages of my knowing my father
  • Recollections of stories about my dad told to me by others before I came on the scene
  • Recounting the sad images of my father in his sad state last week
  • Going over and over and over the last few times we had time together over the past year or two
  • Wondering what activity we’d do together if I had just one more day of the healthy and vibrant dad that was once mine to enjoy

Don’t get me wrong folks, this isn’t regrets. Rather this is th recollections of one whom took every opportunity to tell his father he loved him. In that department, there are no regrets.

Instead, this is someone just coming to the realization just that he didn’t how much he’s going to miss his dad – and how much my daughter will never see nor comprehend of this man who as my mentor, my role model, my hero.

I guess in the same way I tell my little girl every night “I love you forever” … in my heart I’m now thinking that I’d say to my dad “I’ll miss you forever.

Ah good, some tears – and now perhaps a bit more sleep …

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

  • a time to be born, and a time to die;
    a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
  • a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
    a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
  • a time to seek, and a time to lose;
    a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

Ecclesiastes 3:2,4,6

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