Sunday, April 1, 2012

Dear Papa

Dear Papa,

I came to see you today. I didn't get to hug your neck or kiss your cheek. You weren't watching Cash Cab or a western movie. I didn't hear your voice say, "Hey, Sweetie Pie!" There was no rolled change waiting on Ryan. There wasn't a song waiting to be sung for Harper. There were no soft palms waiting to hold my hand or a kiss to be placed on my temple.  A year ago today, God called you Home.

My visit with you was a bit one sided. I came to see you today at your earthly burial place. As I sat on the ground by your grave, I cried. I began to think about what I would say to you. You know, in case, God granted me my "one more". I would tell you about Brian. I would tell you how great a husband he is for me. I would compare how much he is like you in his desire to learn more about God and to be the spiritual leader of our home. I would have story after story to share of the times he has brought Ryan and I to tears by his sense of humor. You'd be proud. Not only of the man he is, Papa, but of the marriage we have. It's a solid marriage. The kind of marriage you and Momar have.

I would fill you in on all things Ryan. I'd probably tear up talking about it. Ryan makes me so proud and I know he'd make you proud also. He is a straight A student with a wicked sense of humor. But he is wise. His wisdom is a character trait he claims came from you. I think he is right. I would seek your advice on the medical treatment for his cleft lip/ palate and I'd tell you how this last dentist was a bit of a quack. You'd take my hand and say, "I'm going to pray for you, Sweetie Pie." And I would have no doubt that you would cover me in prayer. I also know you'd roll some change for the boy. He always loved that sweet touch.

I'd have to introduce you to Harper Elise. You would be head over heels in love with her. You would tell me how God has given you glimpses of her all along. I'd hear you sing "Zippa de do da Zippa de A" (or however you'd spell that!). And you would pull her close.

I wouldn't say much about me because as I mature I realize something you always wanted me to learn. This life isn't about me. It's about serving others.

There are things I want to know: When you first saw the gates of Heaven what was that like? Did they take your breath away? Were they gold and pearls? Is it an actual gate or an archway? When you arrived did Jesus wipe your tears because you realized you had left your family? When you first saw Jesus did the scars in His hands remind you of the price he paid for you to gain access in to his Kingdom? Was there a welcome party? Do you have a mansion? Can I live there too? Are you able to fish? Was there a line of people waiting to tell you how you changed their lives?

Papa, I'm not going to get my "one more". I had that with you already and I believe I said everything I needed to say. But, I miss you. As I prayed over your grave today and had this conversation with you, God said to me, "time will heal you. all of the firsts are over and now nothing will take you by surprise."

I miss you so much it physically hurt sometimes. God gives me glimpses of the wonderful things you are experiencing in Heaven and I know one day we'll meet again. And you'll be my tour guide.

See you there!

I love you,

Sweetie Pie