When dad died and what I learned through the years

A note before I begin: I am hoping that I give just enough detail and not too much. Inevitably, when I tell my story, I tell a piece of someone else’s story that they do not want to be shared in this public space. So I am trying to share my story and be gracious at the same time. If you are family, this post may have triggers, and I am sorry.

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Finding Out

Tomorrow marks the day that my dad would have turned 70 had he still been alive. Instead, two weeks ago, I remembered that it had been fourteen years since the day he died.

I was in Birmingham, twenty-seven years old and seven months into my marriage. My mom and dad had just moved back to our childhood home in Walker County. My sister was in school at Auburn, and dad was on a business trip in New Orleans.

The Day Of

They say that the mind remembers the events surrounding traumatic days differently than others. Right now, I remember where I was sitting in my home and where the couch was positioned when I got the first call.

You see I worked at the same company as Dad so it was easy for his coworkers to find my phone number. The best I remember they could not get my mom on the phone. They called me to tell me that he had fallen while they were walking back to the hotel after dinner. His coworkers thought he’d had a seizure. Eventually I learned about a nurse who stopped to help before he was taken to a hospital. They needed desperately to reach my mom.

They knew, but they did not tell me yet that dad was gone.

How I felt

I remember getting off the phone calling my mom and getting no answer about a jillion times and trying to will her to pick up the phone. At first, I stayed calm. As I talked to Daniel, I started to get more worried that something was serious, something was wrong.

I called the number back when I could not get anyone to answer from my mom’s end. Yes, cell phones were a thing then, but in this instance, it made no difference. She was nowhere to be found.

In my mind, there were three calls to or from New Orleans, but maybe it was two. I don’t know. I think everyone there kept hoping I could find the next of kin, which was not me. It was supposed to be Mom.

Due to the gravity of the situation, someone decided that I would do as the next of kin. Before I knew it, the phone was being handed from D.A. (dad’s best friend at work) to the doctor on call. He began telling me that dad had died and how he’d done all he could do to revive him, and I felt like I was in a dream floating above myself at that moment. Nothing seemed real.

Dad suffered a massive heart attack. In one instant, he passed into the next world.

Telling Others

When I was in college, my roommate got a call that her friend died, and she screamed as hard as she could when she found out. When I found out that dad died, I did not immediately cry.

I tried to be strong

You see, all of my life, I had been the one required to be strong. I was the one carrying all the heavy burdens. The one who could not fall apart was me. I was supposed to be sensible and do the right thing. I stuffed my emotions in so deep that the first year of marriage was hard and all of the sudden it became harder. But in the moment, I was still my strong, calm self.

Sure, I did eventually cry that evening on that couch in front of that window, but mostly I remember having to call my sister, my aunt, and eventually my mom. Not wanting any tears to be heard in my voice, I had to be strong once again. I knew that my sister would need to come home, and I was certain she needed to be told in person. I called her to tell her to get ready that Daniel and I were coming to get her.

Even though I didn’t want to tell anyone before I told mom, I think it was my mom who was the last to know. By the time I told her, I was able to tell her that I was going to get my sister.

But it was still hard

Everyone I told thought I was telling them a sick, made-up tale. I was dependable, but in that moment, no one found me so. Just like the details of where I was sitting when I got that call, I remember the details of those calls and how each one responded.

Luckily for me, I had a husband to get me ready to go to Auburn to pick up my sister. The details become a little blurry when he picked up some of the load. 

I didn’t get to tell my sister in person. I tried so hard to put it off and hide it until I was there, but she knew something was awfully wrong.

Living After

Dad died the year that I married, so every February not only do I think I have survived another year of marriage, I remember that I have lived another year without Dad.

He died before he was able to see what I would become, before my sister would get married, before any of our children would be born, and before I could see my parents reconcile their marriage.

How I changed

I might have been twenty-seven and a responsible twenty-seven, but I was still absolutely a baby. I learned that you are not ready for loss at any age, especially the loss of a parent, no matter what kind of relationship you did or did not have. You know, I’m not quite the baby I was, but I’m still growing up, even today.

When he died, I asked myself a whole lot of questions why. I was at the time more of a black and white thinker like my son is now. So immediately, I saw his death as a type of judgment.

I had spent many years wrestling with the goodness of God prior to his death, but dad’s death led to a new wrestling with God that led me to life. This is shocking to say, and I am sorry to say it, but dad’s death was a type of relief to me. It was the ability to finally lay down a burden I’d been carrying for a long, long time.

At the time, I did not have a good understanding of grace or my sin or true freedom or laying things totally down at the cross.  I was the strong one. The confidante carrying all of everyone’s burdens, all of life’s heavy problems. I did not know that I was not Jesus and that I did not have to carry all of the things that so many people put on me. Which even on this side of things, I know is tricky.

What I Learned

Dad’s death helped lead to my real rescue in Christ. It was just one big thing among many little things along my journey that led to chains breaking and freedom gained.

I do not think of my dad every day, even though I miss him everyday. I think people affect you every day, especially your mom and your dad, and I experience the effects my dad had on me every day whether I think of them or not, both good and bad.

Some days, I’ll just be doing something he would have done and he’ll be there with me again. Alive in me, in thought and in deed.

Now, I’ve written a Bible study on Romans 8 that is being done online in a Facebook group called the Bible Study Hub. At the time dad died, Romans 8:28 would have seemed like a crazy dream, 

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

Romans 8:28Now, however, I do know that all things work together for my good, even the death of a loved one. This promise is not true for those who do not love God, the God of Jesus. This promise is only true for Christian believers.

However, this promise is such a good promise because it means that nothing is wasted. Nothing good, even nothing bad. Nothing hoped for, nothing suffered, nothing wondered. I wish that everyone could fall under the wonderful news of this promise by believing.

How I Changed and Stayed the Same

Dad’s death in November forever changed some things, like how I feel at the holidays and how I live and see the world. Some things from that time have not yet been redeemed and some have.

In tangible ways, it wasn’t long after he died that I quit working at that company we both worked for. But there are so many more intangible ways I am inevitably changed.

I thought this moment in time was just an arbitrary moment in time. One that spoke nothing about the totality of me and who I am, but as I look at this one slice of my story today, so much of this story describes so much of me, who I was, who I am, and who I continue to become.

My Current Hope

This year, though, I am reminded of that promise, the promise of Romans 8:28. All things work together for good for those that love God and are called according to his purpose. Yes, all things work together for good. All things.

Currently, I am in a hard place.

I am in my own middle-aged hard years with teenage children, and I can see things clearly about my parents and their struggles that I was too busy seeing through my selfish daughter’s eyes at the time – a bit black and white, a bit without grace, a bit self involved and unable to see the complexities of adulthood and its struggles. 

I don’t know if the last words I said to my dad were kind or unkind. Those were extremely hard days. I was so angry with him and wanted all of the struggles between my parents to end. They did, but not in the way I wanted.

Sometimes I tell my children, “Don’t tell me that you hate me, I know that you do and that it is somewhat normal, but you never know if those words will be your last to me. Instead, tell me that you love me.” My words never seem to stick too much. One day they will though. 

Loving like Jesus

Could I say the words I again, I would tell my dad that I loved him, and I would not let his failures determine how I loved him. However, I am on the other side of understanding that Jesus loves me, even when I don’t measure up anywhere else and His love is “never stopping, unbreaking, always and forever love,” even when I am in the deep pit of sin. He faithfully pursues and woos and finds me again and again. He knows all there is to know about me even all the things I don’t yet know, and He loves me just the same.

As my friend reminded me this week, 

“He loved them to the end.”

John 13:1Yesterday’s failures can be tomorrow’s victories. 

My lack of understanding yesterday is tomorrow’s understanding.

All things can be redeemed when Jesus is over them and the lover of my soul. This truth gives me great hope in this season of hard struggle.

Love you, dad.