The baby boomers of South Minneapolis had it made. I think back to the years growing up and just feel incredibly blessed. There were kids in almost every house. We played outside from sunrise to sunset all summer long, knew each other’s parents, had neighborhood parks where we played kickball or skated throughout the winter months. I love that so many of us are still connected and can share our common memories.
My first real experience with the darkness and confusion life can bring, was when my dad died of a heart attack in his sleep when I was 14. He had suffered from heart disease for years. Back then, in the 1950’s and 1960’s, there were no stents or by-pass surgeries to be found. He continued to smoke his pack of cigarettes each day and it was frightening every time he had another chest pain.
His pain was called “angina.” He had nitroglycerin tablets and an oxygen tank at the ready. It wasn’t often, but the times he suffered another attack are still etched in my mind all of these decades later. He remained funny and silly and loving, a fast driver, stubborn, a good-looking man, my hero, my daddy.
The death was shocking. Maybe you have been there. That moment of diagnosis, the accident, the break in relationship. That moment when you know life will never be the same. My poor mom didn’t drive, had never dealt with the checkbook, nor did she have any knowledge of the business my dad owned, a floor sanding and laying company. She would often tell me, I was the one thing that kept her going through those first years without him.
We became dependent upon one another. My mom always, always put me first. What a blessing to have a strong, compassionate and sacrificial mom. Everything I have put into my children I learned from her. When my dad died, my greatest prayer became, “Please, please, please God, don’t let her die.”
It was my greatest fear. After all, if one parent could disappear, why not the other? That year of his death began a road of anxiety and panic attacks that would plague me for years to come off and on. But God was working.
The blessings are numerous thinking back on that time. An aunt who brought me such comfort with her strong arms and words. My best friend, Shelly, who would just be there, no matter what. A good friend of mine from kindergarten who lost his mom to cancer around the same time. We felt like fish out of water. Not many of our friends had lost a parent. Our shared loss brought us closer.
I still miss my dad after fifty years. How about you? A death seems like an end. But for my dad, it was just the beginning of no more pain, no more suffering, just pure joy. And I anticipate the day I will see him and my mom again.
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying or pain, for the former things have passed away. Revelation 21:4
Father,
In the depts of grief we don’t understand. Jesus felt our pain in the Garden of Gethsemane, as He grieved all that was to come. And He took our pain upon Himself on the cross. Comfort those who mourn.
In Jesus name,
Amen
Good morning neighbor, I really related to your post today, I too learned about grief at the very young age of 8 when my father was killed. I was starting to share the nightmare of how my father died and I just couldn't do it. It's way to awful. I was also so afraid of loosing my mother after my fathers death I slept with her and I would hike my leg over her so she wouldn't leave me. I have always told myself God won't give me more than I can handle, Well I feel like He really did give me maybe too much ~ but He was with me and helped me deal with it long before I was Saved. Feeling grateful for that ! Thank you for your light Judy ~ Beautiful writing!
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