He, along with my mom, created a true example of what it means to be family and what it means to treat friends like family.
Family means sharing in the joys of graduations, weddings, the births of grandchildren.
It means softening the sorrows of first love and its first heartache.
Family means modeling responsibility and teaching it.
Family means conversations about nothing, and silence that says everything. With family, a few words can generate a thousand pictures.
Before he passed, Dad told me, "There's no time for regrets." He was right. We don't know how much time any of us has. There is no time for regrets. We have a choice. Focus on the good and keep our eyes on Christ, or focus on the negative which will ultimately consume us. I know what Dad, my earthly father, and God, my heavenly father, both would have wanted. I choose the good.
Choosing to focus on the good means remembering the fishing, camping and playing Monster, instead of lamenting what we won't play tomorrow.
It means making sure every grandchild knows how to play Euchre, and how to cheat. Just a little.
It means rejoicing that for more than 67 years on Earth, this man knew Christ in his heart and now he knows him in person.
It means following the example of more than 47 years of marriage, in good times and in bad - a marriage that so clearly shows what marriage can be with work and love, a love too many never experience.
It means thanking God that I had a loving, caring father every day for 44 years when so many others have never experienced that kind of total, forgiving, joyous love.
It means looking through pictures and memories with my sons and nieces, reflecting on all they did with Grandpa, rather than harboring regret and sadness because of what they didn't get to do.
There's no time for regrets.
I am sad today, but I rejoice because Dad is cured. On God's timeline, and in God's presence. I don't have to understand the plan, or even like it because I trust it.
