The headlines and our social media feeds are full of it:
Ukraine, your kids.
Heartbreak, heart failure.
It seems so many are in need of a rescue.
This month my dad is on my mind, too. He was my first rescuer. I know that’s not true for everyone. Some of us had good fathers, others had ones we wish had lived and loved differently. Either way, June conjures up memories of our childhood and our father’s place in it.Some of us had good fathers, others had ones we wish had lived and loved differently. Either way, June conjures up memories of our childhood and our father’s place in it.Click To Tweet
I am truly one of the blessed ones. With his contagious optimism, my dad made this world better just by walking around in it. You probably know someone like that. The thing is, these kind of people always end up doing so much more than meandering through life. They leave both legacies and holes when they’re gone.
Dad’s humor gave me hope to hang on when the going got hard.
His wisdom kept me from falling off the edge more than once.
His example gave me courage to look my actual life in the eye and not blink.
I wish I could talk to him still about all the issues in need of a rescue, those that seem to go unresolved and even unnoticed. I wish I could share my latest cardiac test results with him. He’d google-research for me, and we’d discuss options. (He’d already know way more about AI than me.)
I wish I could hear his snicker-laugh again.
I just wish I could be with him one more Sunday in June.
Father’s Day 2020 was his last holiday. I like to believe Dad read my card and was able to comprehend my praise. But I don’t know for sure. He was near the end and strong meds eased his increasing pain but dulled his brilliant mind. I did find my card on the end table next to his chair in the living room after the funeral. I remember looking intently for a crease or a fingerprint (or a smudge of dark chocolate) as proof that he’d encountered my thoughts.
TO MY LONGEST-SERVING RESCUER
Just in case he didn’t get to read those last words, this is sort of a makeup Father’s Day card to my Rescuer Emeritus. I know Dad’s pain is finally gone and he is living the fullest life he could imagine. I know he completely understands rescue now.
So that’s why I wanted to revisit a piece from several years ago, “The Rescue.” It’s one that evoked lots of interest. It was picked up by an international magazine for their online publication. It’s one I know Dad read.
If you’re without your father this side of Eternity, I’m not so naïve to believe my words could sew up that hole in your heart, or the one in mine. But now in 2023, with God’s grace, my own grief is becoming more a scar than a gaping wound. I want that for your pain points, too.
And with all that’s going on with our world, these words seem even more relevant, and even more important to think about.