A week or so ago as I was cleaning up the house Noah called from the kitchen table, "Mom, how do you spell died?" I provided the letters and he continued on with his artwork. A few minutes later he brought me this:
When I asked this sweet, sometimes old soul to explain it he first read the words. "I wrote Papa died." He showed me Papa's smile, how he was laying in 'the box' and the beautiful green grass all around.
I couldn't help but ask more: So why is he smiling? Noah's answer was simple: because he's in Heaven now with Jesus, and he's going to be resurrected again so he's happy about that.
And what are these beautiful creations all around Papa? They're fireworks. Because when Papa comes back it's going to be fun.
I cried. It was just a moment full of a lot of love from a five year old who sure has a lot of faith combined with his growing knowledge of the Plan of Salvation.
I miss my dad.
I miss him every single day.
Today marks two years since his passing.
In those two years there have been hundreds of times when I just wished he could be here to help me, but mostly I just want him here still to love me and our family. His six foot, four inch frame enveloped me when we hugged. I think I miss that the most.
For the first six months or so after his passing Dad would show up in my dreams a lot. In the beginning I could never see his face. He was always there walking in the mall with me or we were having a meal together, but I couldn't see him. Finally, there were a few dreams where I got to see and interact with him, and then it all stopped. Those dreams were gifts.
I'm thankful that in two years the more recent memories of Dad being horribly debilitated physically by Parkinson's and mentally by Lewy-Body Dementia have been replaced by images of the decades of good times we had together when his body and mind were whole.
And, Noah's right. When all of that is restored one day it is going to be fun.