To Dad; a letter

Dear Dad,

In 2 days’ time it will be one year since you moved on to your permanent, forever home. It hardly feels like a year has passed since you left us. I would not have thought that the 2 years you lived with us would have made such a big impact on our daily lives and yet nearly daily we still feel the difference.  I still catch myself acting as if you were with us.

For instance, just recently, I started to take down 3 place settings to put on the table for dinner…a whole year after your passing! When I’m shopping, I still check to see if they have Mountain Dew, since I know that was your favorite soft drink, but is sometimes hard to get here. I still have to resist the temptation to grab a bottle to have on hand, even though I don’t buy soft drinks for us! I still think of the room you slept in as ‘your’ bedroom, even though now officially, it is Ukarimu Ministries’ office. Only recently have others stopped calling it Guka’s room (Guka being grandfather in Kikuyu). Even from time to time I get a whiff of what I came to recognize as your scent and it makes me pause and look around, almost as if you might be just behind me.

People who have not seen us since you left us still ask about you, and from time to time at our Thursday night neighborhood Bible study, someone reminisces about funny things you would do or say when you regularly attended. It is good to be able to smile and even laugh at these memories, as we remember you fondly, but they also bring pangs as we miss you. As I climb the stairs daily, I remember with pride how you climbed these same stairs 2-4 times a day, at 92! These days, with my arthritic knee and sciatica, I am grateful for the extra support of the 2^nd railing we put up for you on that stairway. Every time I lean heavily on them, I remember you. When I have devotions in the office, sitting on the sofa across from the picture my mother drew, whenever I look at the picture, I remember how often you would be lying on that sofa as we took your blood pressure, and you would comment with pride about Mom having drawn that picture and how much you missed her. I remember how wistful your comments made me feel because I miss her too. Now I also miss you. We were all so amazed at how healthy and active you were even in your 90s. Not only did you climb those stairs, and go weekly to Bible study with us, but you regularly went to Nairobi with the guys, you did things like help set or clear the table, you’d go with us sometimes to visit friends, taught friends, interns, and students Kings in the Corner, attended church with us weekly right up until the last 6 months or so, and walked nearly daily across the street to the local conference center, where you would buy a milkshake, look at the local newspaper, and chat up the staff and guests, always making new friends. No wonder so many came to your memorial service!

We would have wanted you to stay with us a bit longer, however, we also know it was probably a mercy that God took you home. Your dementia, though still fairly mild, was definitely progressing. I suspect that when we moved upcountry into our retirement home, that it would have been a very stressful and perhaps unhappy process for you, especially if your thinking abilities were further impaired. Additionally, that sepsis that finally took your life had already severely damaged your heart (the strength of which you were so proud), your lungs, and kidneys. I wonder, if you had managed to make it through, what kind of life you would have had. You were always so active, even to 92, you would have probably been frustrated to no end if you were to be so severely limited due to such major organ damage. No one knows what the future would have been like for you. The best we can do is surmise. Though we miss you, we trust that God knows what He was doing when He took you home. He knew the reason for the suddenness of the illness and your passing. And He knows how our hearts ache with missing you and how He will help us through the grieving process. I am grateful for the 92 years He gave you and for the nearly 2 years you lived with us. It was for me, a marvelous opportunity to get to know the father I never really knew as an adult (since I married and left home young). God also helped us learn how to minister to the aged with diminishing capacities, and to love even in the tough times. Yes, Dad, you were God’s gift to us. Enjoy your forever…we will come in God’s good timing. Meanwhile, we will miss you and remember you fondly, even with laughter.

I love you, Dad.

Chari