Hi Mike,
Guess you’re getting ready to go soon now, huh?
Well…you’ve been getting ready for a long time. What’s it
been, some 15 years or so, you’ve been fightin’ with a heart that just wants to
quit?
I want you to know it’s been a real pleasure—an
honor—getting to know you.
Roxy and I are thankful you and Brenda moved in, and God
allowed us to be neighbors…friends.
You fought hard, like a real super hero. You did the right
things, even when no one was looking, even when it hurt. You got up and went to
church—when most folks would stay in bed. You took care of yourself, ate right
and exercised…and yet, here you are, on a hospice bed in the middle of your
living room, with an oxygen mask indenting your cheeks.
And I think things like, it’s
just not fair.
But you say words like, “When the doctors are through, and
there’s no more they can do, then…I’ll go bye-bye.” You lift a little smile,
like it’s no big deal. And I’m always impressed every time you do.
You’ve lived in today, while being packed and ready to step
into tomorrow—that always impressed me about you, too.
You and Brenda were forever bringing treats for the kids and
little gifts for us—wish we could’ve shared some of that last pecan pie you
bought. But, I ate your share, and mine. You’ve spoiled us…and wore a path from
your house, and heart, to ours.
Thanks for hanging out in the carport while I worked on that
old fixer-upper boat. I saw the smile under your oxygen mask every time I’d
make a stupid joke—thanks for that, too.
We spent last Christmas morning playing chess in a hospital
room—don’t tell my family, but I can’t remember a better Christmas.
Remember the other day when you said, “I’m not gonna make
it.”?
Well, my friend, you’ve already have made it. You’ve lived a
Godly life, raised a family and loved your wife.
You told me you’d never make it ‘til Friday, ‘til when all
you kids could come.
Well…Mike, my friend. I just looked out the window and saw
a car drive up in front of your house and the last of your kids are piling out.
They drove all night—700 miles. Guess what? It’s Friday.
They’re here. You made it. Well done.
Oh, and one more thing, if you don’t mind… when the time
comes for you to go bye-bye, please tell
God, that I said…“Thanks.”
1 comment:
I left no comments the first and second or third time I read this letter but only because I couldn't handle it at the time. This is my dad this is about my hero he raised me from the time I was a baby and he is the only dad I knew and will ever know. It has only been 15 days since he left me. I am so depressed because I feel like I failed him and disappointed him in so many ways that it is hard to think about it. This was the nicest thing to hear and read I had always been proud of my dad I used to carry a picture of him around with me and show everyone. But I have always felt that I couldn't make him nor my mother proud of me no matter what I did and it started when I was little and has just gotten harder every second , minute, hour, week, month and year that has gone by. But he was my daddy so I loved him more and more each one of those times I have so many things on my mind about my mom and dad and going back to school and selling moms house here so she will have something to live on I feel like myself and my husband buying this house from them was a mistake they could have used the money more than they needed me in their house. Oh Lord all these thoughts are killing me but for me to say any thing to my mom she will just say her famous words (Oh Please) (whatever) sorry so long and thank you so much for the kind words about my mom and dad.
Post a Comment