I know I can talk to you this way because I have known you for so long, because I knew your father, and because I love you.
You must move on.
I can never see your father as you see him. There are so many wonderful things about him that only you can know. And, honestly, I have to admit that there are some things about him that I shared with him that you would never understand. We both knew the same person uniquely; His wry smile and his cutting looks of reprimand, a pat on the back and a swat on the behind. He taught you to be a man. He was one of a kind and there will never be another just like him…ever.
You must move on.
I know he was proud of you. He told me so. He enjoyed your smile your laugh and your daring spirit. I think that you feel like he took some of that with him when he died. He didn’t. He left those things to you as an inheritance. It was his gift to you. And no one can take that from you, or hide it from you or diminish it in any way…except you. It is your commitment to him to preserve that part of you that he thought was beautiful.
You must move on.
He knew what you feel. He lost his father when he was only a child and worried (you knew this) that he would not see you develop into the man that you have become. He was granted that wish. Don’t wish for a moment that you could join him so soon and deprive us of your gifts, your passion, the person who you are in the process of becoming.
You must move on.
I know you are a Christian and you were taught well (by your Daddy’s example) that we will all be together in the by-and-by. But it is not your time. You cannot do go to him. He taught you that life was precious and sacred. You will carry on for the next few, or many, years that our creator has assigned you. And in that moment when you are freed from this earthly body you will see him again, and time will be irrelevant. It will seem that you have only been apart for a moment. The days, weeks, months, and years will amount to no more than the batting of an eyelash but the homecoming will be so sweet. It will be joyous, not just because you will see him again, but because you will meet him in your perfection…in God’s time.
You must move on.
You visit his stone and imagine that he is there. He is not. The physical remains that are in that box buried below that black Texas dirt are poor replacements for the integrity, honesty, and beauty that he once was. The reality is that those qualities and a thousand more, each precious to us both, still exist in his eternal spirit and in our memories.
You must move on.
I know you loved him. I did too. He wasn’t just your dad, he was mine. And while he is gone from this place, we are still here living his legacy. In heaven, things are eternal. Here on earth, everything will fade and crumble. Even his grave marker, decorated with our mementoes and bathed in our tears, will one day tumble over and turn to dust. It is inevitable. So what can we do? We can remember. We can laugh at what was funny and cry over what was tragic. But most of all, we can live the life that he imagined for us. We can be the people he thought we were. We can extend his love to those around us so that one day when it is our turn to join him, that our sons will pause and consider their mortality and wonder how they will carry on. But with grace, they will.
You must move on.
Leave the pain behind. Keep what is beautiful.
You must move on…and I will go with you.
I love you.
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