Dad

I have been thinking a lot about my dad lately, and not just because tomorrow is Father's Day.  It has been a year and a half since he went home to be with the Lord.  In many ways it still seems hard to wrap my head around the fact that he is not here anymore.  I am grateful to have had a good relationship with him, unlike many people I counsel.  It was not a perfect relationship, especially in the later years he could be stubborn, and as his illness progressed he became increasingly depressed. His disease turned the last years of his life into a long goodbye.  But I still felt his love and support and for that I am very grateful.
One thing that I still admire is that he was as good a father as he was, considering that his father walked out on his family when my dad was teenager.  Apparently my grandfather decided he was finished being a husband and father, and never returned.  In fact, he broke off all communication with his family and my dad read about his death in the newspaper!  I can't imagine how that impacted his life as a kid, but maybe that is why he put such effort into spending time with me and being there for me.  And why he always seemed to have a heart for kids, especially the down and out ones, children living in poverty, and even the troubled kids he met during his time as a Philly police officer.
But today I find myself realizing how much I miss him.  The man who taught me so much about what it means to be a man. A man of faith, a man of family, a man of integrity.  The man who taught me how to ride a bike, to shoot a gun, to hunt and fish, to care for animals, especially dogs, to tune up a car and change the oil, to be generous toward others, and most important, the man who led me to faith in Christ.  And I think I figured out why I am missing him today, a year and a half later.  When dad was here, I always knew I had him to fall back on.  If something broke, he knew how to fix it, or who to call to get it fixed.  If I needed advice, I could call on him for it.  If I needed someone to pray for me, and put all my cards on the table about it, he would hear me out and pray for me.  Its like in the fire service when you advance a hose line into a burning building, you always have another firefighter with you who has your back.  In the air force you always have a "wing man," another pilot in his plane to support you.  In the army, soldiers talk about having each other's "6," another way of saying "I have your back."
But he's not here any more, he is with the Lord.  I know the Lord is with me, and I have a great family. God is faithful, and I know my family are there for me as I am there for them.  But it feels at times like I am flying solo without my most experienced wing man, advancing the hose line without that trusted back-up who has seen it all and has the charred helmet and well worn gear that says, "been there, done that." There's a hole there, an empty spot, a voice no longer heard.
Now that Dad is not here, and my children are adults, I am in the role my dad played in my adult life.  Whoa, not sure I am ready for that yet!  And so on this second Father's Day without him, I am grateful for the years we had, that he is with the Lord and no longer suffering, and hoping I can continue to follow his example.  Love you Dad.
Blessings,
Dr. Paul,