In rememberance

Four years ago tomorrow I got that horrible phone call saying that my dad had died during the night. I still have moments where I struggle with the guilt I feel for not reaching out to him more in the years after I moved to Minnesota. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that he wouldn't live to see his 57th birthday. I often think of him watching Sam and Julia from Heaven. It warms my heart and helps lessen the pain of not having him here. Last year my mom gave my sisters and I ornaments that say:
I love you all dearly, Now don't shed a tear, I'm spending my Christmas With Jesus this year.
As we decorated the tree the other day, I hung that ornament nearby this one that I bought in honor of Noah. While I cried my way through a show the other night on who we'd like the chance to spend one more day with and what we would do if we only had one hour to live, I felt a peace come over me that while I won't get another day with my dad in this lifetime, he's already enjoying an eternity with Jesus. I can't help but hope he's gotten a chance to snuggle with little Noah too.

This is a hard day for me, but in little ways I feel my dad's presence - almost like I can feel his flannel shirt rubbing against my cheek as he wraps me in a hug. Two of the ornaments he gave Brian and I for Christmas one year are tucked safely in the tree, a Santa magnet on the fridge that says "Merry Christmas Carrie" makes me feel like he's saying it himself every time I pass it, Brian and I wore my dad's super warm boots when we cut down the Christmas tree and today when we went sledding. Pulling out the toboggan that I used as a child brought back many fond memories of trips to Cam-Rock Park's sledding hill. One trip down the very big hill my dad tumbled out only to have the wooden toboggan run over his head. Ouch!

On the dance floor at my wedding He cupped my face with both of his big, rough, callused hands on my face and said, "I'm proud of you". I hope that hasn't changed Dad.