“Antoinette, do you hear that?” my
father asked after taking his first bite of a blueberry pie. G-momma was
gracious enough to bake the guys a pie after a long day of moving. “No,
Daddy! What is it that you hear?” I confusingly asked. All I could hear
was my uncle and my mother laughing at how slow my dad was eating his piece of
pie. Any other time my father would finish his pie within four bites. He
replied with a sparkle in his eye, “It feels like angels are coming down to
get me and to take me HOME!”
The Saturday of April 9th 2011 will always be a
day I remember. It started off with much excitement. My family helped me
relocate to Indianapolis from South Bend on what I thought would be a
wonderful, new journey. Not only was I moving out of my parent's home for the
first time, but I was relocating to a different city at the age of
twenty-three. I was accepted into IUPUI, extended a new job offer, and moving
into my very own apartment. I was so excited to enter a new season of my
life. Little did I know that this year would be a time of healing and a season
to bear much fruit.
It was a beautiful day outside and my family and I just
finished putting my bedroom set together.
We decided to visit with G-momma before heading out to dinner. After
eating a couple pieces of pie, my father noticed that G-momma’s grass
was too long for his liking. We all knew that when my dad sees something that
needs to be done, he is going to take the initiative to do it. My mother
jokingly warned him NOT to take too long and NOT to get too dirty. After
waiting twenty minutes, I decided to go check on my father’s
progress. I watched him for a couple moments walking and continuing to cut the
grass, as he waived at me and gave me the biggest smile. I blew him a daughter’s kiss
and went back inside to wait. Ten minutes passed and the lawn mower stopped. I
watched my uncle Paul walk out the back door to help my father put things away.
You could tell we all were thinking the same thing. Thank God he’s
finished!
“David! David!” with worry in his voice, we could hear
my uncle yelling my father’s name through the garage door. At that
very moment, I felt my heart pause. I watched my mother run out the back door
and for some reason I was stuck. I couldn’t move. It felt like an out of body
experience as I saw myself yelling for my father, but no one could hear me. I
finally snapped out of it when I heard my mother’s
voice. She was calling my father’s name as well.
I ran out the garage door in what
seemed like less than a second and reached my father’s still
body. He was lying there, face down until my uncle turned him over. My father’s face
was completely purple and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. I dropped
to my knees and immediately started to pray. Everything happened so fast when
the ambulance arrived. Forty minutes later my world of adventure and hope had
come to an abrupt holt when my father was announced dead.
I will never forget the emotions I felt
in the one months’ time while back home to be with my mother. Emotions of
fear, anger, love, hope, frustration, laughter, and disappointed in my dad for
leaving me and disappointed in God for calling him home. Life has never been
the same since my father’s passing. I feel a part of me died
when God called my father home, but just as wheat must die before it can bear
good fruit. This principal has become a part of my reality.
As I look back on the day when I was
leaving my parent’s home, my father stopped me at the door and looked at me.
He looked at me with tears of joy in his eyes and gave me the best gift a
father could ever give a daughter. “…I thank you for allowing me to be a
father to you. I pray that you will continue to have favor and that you will
prosper in all the things that you do. I pray that doors will open and that you
have a life of good fruit, much fruit and fruit that will forever remain. I
give you my blessing. I LOVE YOU!” A Father’s
Blessing! He blessed me with such the simplest words, the words of approval. My
daddy’s words are words that I will forever hold dear to me heart.
It’s been two years since my father’s
passing and I miss him every day that passes. It just confirms the more I miss
him I think about what a treasure he was to me. As the days go by I get
stronger and stronger, but still taking one day at a time. I have an invitation
to heal, an invitation to hear and an invitation to teach. I will be leaving
for Spain in less than two months and through this journey, my father’s words
will hold dear to heart. His blessing! I will remember the words he spoke. Through my fears,
my anger, my love, my hope, my frustration, my laughter and my disappointments
I will remember.
Why did my father have to leave this
earth realm? I have no clue. God is close to the broken hearted and I will
trust that through this experience I will always hear him speaking. God is
cradling my heart and calling me to intimacy. There is more that he requires of
me. Discovery of a treasure held deep inside my father and now passed on to me.
It takes time to heal and I know I must be patient because growth will come,
most often, from a hurtful situation. My
season of a plentiful, fruitful basket is nearing and I have my father to thank
for the wonderful gift he has imparted in me.
Thank you daddy for giving me your blessing,
Love your baby girl!
