Joy in the Journey

 “He is always with you.”  It has been three weeks since my dad passed away and I have heard that sentence or some version of it so many times from so many people. Mostly I've heard it spoken to my mom, but it's also been said to me, too. And it’s kind of driving me nuts. Because my dad is not with us anymore. He is not here "in spirit". I had a dream about him last night. It was actually really cool because my son, John, had a dream as well. After the service my son John wanted me to hang one of the photos I had printed off for the memorial up against the wall in his bunkbed space. It is a picture of my dad when he was somewhere around 3 or 4 years old, fishing, which was one of my dad's favorite pastimes. It is so cute. My son hung it beside a plaque that he got for Christmas, which says “Hooked on Fishing”. He said he put it there because Papa (as my children call him) hooked us for life. When I tucked my son into bed last night, he was looking at the picture a

 I have to share a dream that I had this morning: We were at a swimming hole in a creek or a river, I’m not sure which one, it was not one that I recognize, but I do know that my mom and my children were there and some friends of ours were there, too. I could tell it was a warm day, and really just lovely weather because everybody was having fun playing in the water and basking on the gravel bar. Everyone but me.  To me, the entire scene was black and white. Like an old movie. I couldn’t see or feel the sunshine. I knew that the children’s bathing suits and floaty toys were brightly colored, but all I could see were different shades of gray. I felt very forlorn. And very cold. Finally, I asked my mom if she would watch the toddlers and then got into the water. I crossed the river but being in the water did not do anything for me. Everything still seemed very dull and melancholy. I waded up to the top of the swimming hole and stood in the middle of the stream. I plunged in, and just swa

This morning I woke up and, for the first time in my entire life, I woke up knowing that my dad is not sharing this planet with me. And though his death was not unexpected, it’s very foreign and my brain is having a hard time getting used to the idea.  I’ve been very blessed in that I have never lived more than a mile from my parents. My children are very blessed because they’ve never went a week without seeing their grandparents at least once. And now my dad is gone. And I know he is in heaven, and I am so happy for him because he is experiencing things we only dream about...but...wow... it’s just really hard to get used to. My dad was a small town, hermit-ish, kind of guy. He had a lot of friends but he was never the center-of-attention, life-of-the-party kind of guy. His favorite pastimes were fishing and hunting and being in the mountains. And spending time with his grandkids. Actually, he loved all kids. They gave him a special joy, and he delighted in them. My parents were only a