Missing Dad

Since Saturday I have been missing my dad horribly. No particular reason. Early January holds no specific special day such as birthday and that's probably why the hurt seems intensified. I find I brace myself for his birthday, Father's Day, holidays, and all other special days so I'm ready for the sorrow. But not January 5th...or 6th...or 7th.

The first wave hit me as we walked through the Sears tool section on Saturday. I had flashbacks of walking those aisles with my dad, of buying him gifts in that department and I just desperately wanted to talk to him.

Then yesterday my mom and Peter came by after church for lunch and I just felt like something, actually someone, was missing. There was a huge vacancy that can only be filled by my dad.

And today? Well, I just have something big going on in my life and it's at these crucial decision points I always got solid advice from my very wise dad. I want to hear him say, "Well, Jury Jury, that sounds like a good idea."

As if you probably don't think I'm weird enough, I have these two things I ponder at times like this: first, I pray "God, I don't know if it's possible or not but if you don't mind, please tell my dad how much I love him and miss him." I don't know if he does it or not, but I know he is able if he wants to and so I ask. You have not because you ask not, right?. Second, I entertain myself with thoughts of my dad having conversations with Abraham, Isaac, David, and the masses of saints that are with Christ. I can imagine a conversation something like this:

Dad: Hey, David, there's this thing called the internet and you can find out virtually anything at the click of a button. And have I told you about the phone?

David: I was a really powerful king; God called me a man after his own heart.

Dad: Yeah, that's pretty cool.

David: And did you know I struck down Goliath, a GIANT of a man, with a stone and slingshot?

Dad: You know, I read about that. It happens to be a popular story in Sunday School.

And in my head it goes on from there. And not just with David. While it may seem weird, it is strangely comforting to picture my dad having these conversations. I told Peter about it one day and he said "Nana, you're very weird." I'm sure he's not alone in thinking that.