Sorry for the quality of this pic...it was the best I could do with not very much time. This is one of the very last pictures of me with my dad before he succumbed to lung cancer in August of 2005. Today would have been his 63rd birthday, and I hate that he isn't here to celebrate it with us. I can't believe he has been gone almost three years. I still miss him like crazy. When I read a new Dean Koontz or Stephen King book that I know he would like, it takes everything I have not to pick up the phone and call our old number. When does that stop? I wish he could see how much alike he and Gabriel are, and watch Elijah and Isabel doing their sports and dance recitals. I wish we could have one of our long phone conversations, complete with the famous 15-minute Klenk goodbye. So many missed moments...The night that Dad died, we all walked out of the hospital exhausted and oh, so sad. It was after eleven o'clock, dark and humid outside. I got into my van, and this song was playing on the radio. I had heard it a few times at church, but didn't really pay attention to the words until that moment. I truly believe God works through music, and this song was on for a reason. Dad and I had a long conversation when he was in the hospital in June, before he got really sick, and he was wishing he had the kind of faith that he thought I had. I remember telling him that all it takes is a mustard seed, and just the fact that he was searching and wanting to believe was a good start. Dad was so afraid of dying, and he fought until his very last breath. My friends and co-workers took such good care of him while he was in the ICU, and they were some of my greatest support. It's weird how you can remember so many details years later. I think my experience has helped me be a more compassionate nurse, and I am grateful for that.
A couple of weeks after the memorial service, I had a vivid dream about Dad. In it, I could see him as he was before the cancer; 6' 5", tall and skinny with dark hair and a dark mustache. We were at a birthday party, and he was sitting right across from me. I asked him, "Dad, what are you doing here?", and he said, "I just missed you guys so much". And I asked, "So, did you go to Heaven?", and he said, "Well, yeah! You wouldn't believe how many people were here waiting for me!". When I woke up, I could remember that dream like it was real. It brought me such peace. Whether that was my psyche just relieving my fears and helping me cope, or a real visit from Dad, I won't know until I see him, but it truly did help. I hate that I didn't get so see my dad as often as I wanted to when he was alive. I hate that we missed going out to dinner and a movie for his last birthday because of bad weather. I hate that I don't have my dad around, period. But I am oh, so, grateful for having an awesome dad that loved me like crazy, that called me "his tiger", that tucked me into bed more nights than not, that taught me the love of reading and the ability to keep my mouth shut when I need to :) I love that.
Sorry for the length of this post...clearly I needed to talk/write about missing my dad today. Thanks for reading, and for always listening when I need to talk about it. I am surrounded by a loving circle of friends and family, and it makes me feel so blessed.
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