On the Death of My Father

I got the call last Thursday.  THE call.  The one telling me that my father had passed away after suffering a massive heart attack.  He died on a Friday but his neighbors didn't notice the newspapers piling up in the driveway until the following Tuesday.  

I was the first one of my siblings to hear the news and so I had the rather sobering job of letting them know what had transpired.  No one was surprised.  In reality, we had been awaiting this news for years.

It has been a roller coaster of emotions...  

The initial shock after hearing the news.  The sorrow of learning how he died alone.  The joy of knowing he is finally at peace.  The harsh realization that my dad left his entire estate to a drinking buddy.  Anger and rage towards that man after learning about the lies and deception he used to get his hands on my father's estate.  Thankfulness that my sister was able to go and retrieve some mementos from the house.   

And finally the peace that came after letting it all go.  In the end, it's all just stuff.  The only thing that matters is that my dad is finally free from the chains of alcoholism and is safely held in the arms of his Savior.  His suffering is no more.  I look forward to seeing him again one day.

He will be buried at the VA cemetery in Denver.  I will visit his grave on my next trip to Colorado. 

The day after my father died, my brother-in-law and his wife welcomed a sweet baby girl into the family.  Life and death.  Joy and sorrow all mixed together.  I am incredibly thankful to have such a wonderful reason to head west.