Many years ago, when my father died in the wee hours of the morning, all five of us children and our spouses gathered back at home with Mother. She asked that we all spend the night, so she could have one night with all her five children under one roof. It was a challenge, but we managed to find beds for eleven. Every bed and sofa was taken. It must have been a sight. Continue reading
A dear friend died this weekend. He’d suffered for years, rarely complaining. He was the best father I’ve ever known, even doing little girl hairdos with matching bows to socks and dresses. His cardiac illness was first diagnosed twenty-three years ago, when his girls were tiny. Thankfully, he recovered some cardiac function, enabling him to guide his daughters into warm, lovely adults. Though it has to break their hearts to lose him, what a blessing it is his family had that twenty-three years. The girls knew a great father instead of always hearing what a wonderful father he would have been.
What a blessing to be whole again after so many years of pain and struggle. We’ll miss you, Randy. Our tears are only for ourselves.