My Popsey,
Memories of my last ten days
February 8th, the day my dad went home to be with our precious Lord, twenty two years ago. I still remember one of the last nights I spent with him; he literally sat up and saw heaven. There was a look of peace on his face, I knew. When I asked him if he could tell me about it and he said no, you will have to wait and see yourself.
A little nun had come into his room and asked him if he was ok? He said, well, I am a little scared. He said, ‘I don’t know how people do this without family, faith and friends.’ I cried a million tears when I lost dad. I took his words, family faith and friends and wrote a song with Annette Martin. I learned how to grieve, hard.  I learned to make donkey noises. The noise you make when you are dealing with all of your emotions at one time.
I know there were times I didn’t feel he loved me, there was a void there. But our precious Lord healed my heart the last ten days I spent with him. Precious memories!
I had stayed all night at the hospital with him. I was there for twenty eight hours. They thought we were losing him that night so I was not going to leave. They put him in a private room. I was exhausted; I literally laid on the floor, no pillow, no blanket, just the linoleum floor. I remember him yelling my name and I jumped up. He was lying there stark naked. I said DAD, what are you doing? He said,’ I am going home.’
I laid my head on his bed, exhausted. I wanted to be there for him every second. I had drifted off to sleep when I heard him call my name again. I looked up and he had his arms stretched out, almost Christ like. He asked me to come closer. I laid my head on his shoulder. I will never forget his words, ‘You really do love me don’t you?’ I said, with all of my heart. At the same time thinking, who told you I didn’t love you?
Sadly, because of the great dysfunction in our home there was a lot of doubt, hate, alcohol, rage, mixed messages and competition.
In God’s timing the truth was revealed to me.  The answer to my question. Dad questioned if I truly loved him. Today, it truly doesn’t matter who told him.  God healed both of our doubts.
He didn’t die that night. I was so thankful I had a few more days with him. Thankful I could rub his big feet (13AAA) one more time, and make them feel like cookie dough. Another day to write down his stories, when we played remembers when. I miss his hugs, his love of life, and even his bratty side. . Although he hated to admit it, I felt he was our emotional parent. I am thankful God put a big dose of dad into me. I am thankful I get to see my Popsey again, in that beautiful place he couldn’t tell me about. He wanted me to wait and see for myself.
For me, the grief did heal the deep pain. Remember though, I grieved hard. I am thankful God taught me how to grieve, making those donkey noises on the way home from carpool or when no one was around. It brought me inner peace . Now I can focus on the memories of my Popsey. Thank you God for teaching me grieving is ok. That is truly one of my gift from God.