D A D

Funny thing, dad is one of few words when spelled backwards is still spelled the same. One can invert the word: start it from back to front or down to up and vice versa. Not sure why I started this post that way, except to lighten how I feel.

Dad, we miss you; your daughter and I. Cheryl, too. You left us too long ago…so, so long ago. Yet, our memories of you are alive and your blood pulses in our veins. We bare your name, and your imprint is stamped on our hearts acknowledging we are your possession.

Valerie reminded me that today commemorates the anniversary of your passing. Your grandchildren were so little then. How you loved them. And, how they would have benefitted from your presence in their lives for years to come. But, that was not to be.

We were fortunate, though. Too many don’t know their dads or are mistreated by them. Fond memories for these are far and few between-if ever. So, in that respect, we are rich to have know such a grand gentleman as yourself. Perfect-far from it, but we can take solace in that we bare the same imperfections as you. We also carry within us some of the more grand characteristics of lives lived with a sense of integrity.

To dwell on the sorrow is okay for a moment, but our lives move on. Everyone knows this truth, but it is sometimes difficult to accept. So, I conclude this more serious than usual post by simply saying this. I honestly hope that when it is my time to vacate this mortal body, my loved ones will know the same love I have for them as you gave to us.

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Stained glass from the chapel where dad’s last tribute was made by his family & many friends.

In The Palm of Your Hand

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If I could have the world and all it owns

A thousand kingdoms, a thousand thrones

If all the earth were mine to hold

With wealth my only goal

 

I’d spend my gold on selfish things

Without the love that Your life brings

Just a little bit more is all I’d need

Till life was torn from me

 

I’d rather be in the palm of Your hand

Though rich or poor I may be

Faith can see right through the circumstance

Sees the forest in spite of the trees

Your grace provides for me

 

If I should walk the streets, no place to sleep

No faith in promises You keep

I’d have no way to buy my bread

With a bottle for my bed

 

But if I trust in the One who died for me

Who shed His blood to set me free

If I live my life to trust in You

Your grace will see me through

 

I’d rather be in the palm of Your hand

Though rich or poor I may be

Faith can see through the circumstance

Sees the forest in spite of the trees

 

 

Sung beautifully by Alison Kraus

Music and lyrics by Ron Block

Photograph of Cheryl, Elliot & Carson

Inspiration from above