Sunday Service

Dear Daddy,

I went to church today for the first time since you left earth. It was.... a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I stood up and looked at the sky and sang praises to the King, and all I could think about was how you were up there now too. I kept thinking about each song we were singing and if you would approve of the theology of each song or if you would think the chord progression was drab. Of course, I thought about how, for once, I was doing the exact same thing that you were doing. Just praising Jesus.

It was hard because every person in that church just reminds me of you. All the old people from Neighborhood you used to rub elbows with. And all the "kids" from Simpson who are now the pastors. T.K. spoke today all about hard times. He preached from John 16:33. All about hard times and how we all go through them. But as he spoke his end point, his voice cracked. He talked all about how Jesus had overcome the world and all of the bad things in it. I stood up for prayer when he called for it. I hate doing that. Everyone looks at you. And, of course, Tim stood up with me to sort of be my support and all I kept thinking was how people probably thought out marriage was in trouble or something. Still, feeling all those hands on my shoulder, my back, my arms. Hearing all those prayers just felt.. well like I was supported.

Afterwards T.K. came up to me with tears welled in his eyes. He said he couldn't even look at me that whole time. I could tell that he really cared about you daddy. Like A LOT.

I never thought about how hard going to church would be. I guess because I address heaven when I go there, and you're in heaven. Sometimes I just want him to tell you I said hi. It's easier not to go, not to open up that part of myself. It's easier to address God from the quiet of my livingroom, where there are plenty of tissues handy and I don't have to greet my neighbor right after I've had a good cry.

Are you still wearing your 3 piece suits in heaven daddy?

We'll talk again soon...
Love, Me.

How This Whole Thing Got Started

Dear Daddy,

2 months ago you went to be with Jesus. It seems like a long time since I held your hands and studied all the freckles on your neck. And there is no gravestone to sit by and cry. I have no marker for you, just a great big open sky to talk to, and somehow it makes things so much harder because of that.

Recently a friend of mine told me that it helps sometimes to write you long letters to tell you how I feel. This is hard for me, because I know you'll never read them. Still, there are a lot of things I want to say to you. A lot of things I do say to you. I pick up the phone about 3 times a day, just like I used to. I haven't erased your number on my address book, even though I know you won't answer it.

I know all of these things, but it still isn't easy to accept them. So I decided to write to you all of the things I want to tell you. I'll keep track of them in a blog. What will it accomplish? I really don't know. But I'm going to do it anyway.

So I came back home and let Tim put a drum set in the livingroom. I keep wondering what you'd think of that. Is it silly? Would you laugh? I'm trying to get him back into music. Ever since he was hurt at Simpson, music is that place that really hits him. I keep hoping that maybe one day it won't hurt him anymore. I know you know how that feels. I wish you could see the kids when he plays them. Olivia thrashes her head around and closes her eyes so tight. Elijah plays the bass drum pretty well. I think he will play, just like we talked about.

I ran into R.B at Target the other day. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. He asked about mom. When we were finished he said, "Tell your dad I said hi" and then looked sad that he'd said that. It's just what he has always said to me, like it's natural. So I'm saying hi to you from R.B.

I'm writing that book I told you about. I'm kicking myself for not sending you a copy of some of the chapters. Why did I think you would think it was stupid? You always encouraged me in my dreams. It's coming along pretty well actually. I'm kinda surprised. Somehow I feel like you're not :)

Gosh I miss you. Tim said something to me yesterday and I thought he said, "Your dad just tried to call me."  I seriously had to stop myself from being excited about that. Could you call me from heaven sometime dad? I really want to hear all about it. How are you settling in? Did you see Rita up there? What about Grandpa? I wonder what your new body looks like?

Talk to you later (by the way, that feels really good to say that)
Love, Me.