“Antoinette, do you hear that?” my father asked after taking his first bite of a blueberry pie. G-momma was gracious enough to bake the fellas a pie after a long day of moving. “No, Dad! What is it that you hear?” I confusingly asked. All I could hear was my uncle and my mother laughing at how slow my dad was eating his piece of the pie. Any other time my father would finish his pie within four bites. He replied with a sparkle in his eye, “It feels like angels are coming down to get me and to take me HOME!”
Four years ago, I wrote the story on my father’s passing. From time to time I tend to open this file and read it – reminiscing about the day God called one of His angels home. Seldom, readers don’t take the time to go back click on the “older post.” The archives of a blogger are where you really get to know them. I wanted to share this post with you today – praying that it helps someone out there dealing with the loss of a loved one. I hope you enjoy it.
It was a beautiful day out and my parents and I had just finished moving me into my new place. It was a long day, driving from South Bend to Indianapolis, then moving all of my things into G-momma’s house. I had decided to stay with her for a few months until I saved up to get my first apartment. After moving my things in, we decided to visit G-momma before heading out to dinner. My father noticed that her grass was too long for his liking. We all knew that when my dad saw something that needed to be done, he was going to take the initiative to do it. Mom jokingly warned him NOT to take too long and NOT to get too dirty. After waiting twenty minutes, I decided to go check on his progress. I watched him for a couple of moments mowing the lawn, as he waved at me and gave me the biggest smile. I blew him a daughter’s kiss and went back inside to wait. Ten minutes had passed and the lawnmower stopped. I watched my uncle Paul walk out the back door to help my dad put things away. You could tell we all were thinking the same thing. Thank God he’s finished!
“David! David!” with worry in his voice, we could hear my uncle yelling my father’s name. At that very moment, I felt my heart pause. I watched mom run out the back door and for some reason I was stuck. I couldn’t move. It felt like an out of body experience as I saw myself yelling for my dad, but no one could hear me. I finally snapped out of it when I heard my mother’s voice. She was calling my dad’s name as well. I ran out of the garage door in what seemed like less than a second and reached my father’s still body. He was lying there, face down until my uncle turned him over. His face was completely purple and his eyes were rolled in the back of his head. I dropped to my knees and immediately started to pray. Everything happened so fast when the ambulance arrived. Forty minutes later my world of adventure and hope had come to an abrupt halt when my father was announced dead.
I will never forget the emotions I felt in one months’ time while back home to be with my mother. Emotions of fear, anger, love, hope, frustration, laughter, and disappointment. Disappointed in my dad for leaving me and disappointed in God for calling him home. Life has never been the same since my father’s passing. I feel apart of me died when God called him home. But just as wheat must die before it can bear good fruit. This principle has become a part of my reality.
As I look back on the day when I was leaving my parent’s home, my father stopped me at the door and looked down at me. He looked at me with tears of joy in his eyes and gave me the best gift a father could ever give his daughter. “…I thank you for allowing me to be a father to you. I pray that you will continue to have favor and that you will prosper in all the things that you do. I pray that doors will open and that you will have a life of good fruit, much fruit, and fruit that will forever remain. I give you my blessing. I LOVE YOU!”
A Father’s Blessing! He blessed me with such the simplest words. The words of approval. My daddy’s words are words that I will forever hold dear to my heart.
It has now been four years since my father’s passing and I miss him every day that passes. It just confirms that the more I miss my father, the more I remember what a treasure he was to me. The days have come and gone and I’ve gotten stronger and stronger. My heart will forever have that scar however through this experience I had an invitation to heal, an invitation to hear, and an invitation to teach. And I willingly accepted.
I have gone and accomplished so many of my dreams since his passing. Wanting him to be remarkably proud of me. Through my journeys, my father’s words held dear to my heart – especially his blessing!
I will always remember the words he spoke. Through my fears, my anger, my love, my hope, my frustration, my laughter, and my disappointments – I will remember!
Why did my father have to leave this earth realm? I have no clue. God is close to the brokenhearted and I will trust that through this experience I will always hear him speaking. God cradled my heart and called me to intimacy. There was more than He required of me. I thank God for showing me that.