This Christmas, I am sending a letter to my Dad for his gifts to me. I hope this letter inspires you to call or send a letter to each of your parents to appreciate them for their loving and caring for you every day of your life. In America, all of us enjoy SUCH enormous blessings not found in places like Africa, Asia, Mexico, South America, Middle East, Indochina and many other less fortunate places in the world.
Dear Dad,
It's been 58 years since you drew your last breath on this planet. That moment you left; my heart stood still. With your passing, my mind dropped into a lower gear. My spirit, usually "up" because of your guidance and constant encouragement, deflated. My sense of the world became senseless. There was no question that my life became a slow slog through painful emotional swamp.
(As a side note, my father was umpiring a baseball game from behind the plate. At the top of second inning, he called, "Strike Three! Take Your Base." The batter turned around, confused. At that moment, my father clutched his chest plate, fell forward over the catcher and died on home plate. His death at age 46 changed the life-trajectory of my entire family.)
How did it happen that life chose to take you away from our family? You had four boys and a daughter to raise! You attended all our sporting events from baseball to basketball to football. You taught us how to swim. You taught us how to scuba dive. You taught us golf. Oh, and that sport called, tennis! I loved walking onto that court.
But then, you were gone. What? Why? At the funeral, I stood in a trance at seeing your lifeless body in that casket. Everybody walked by saying how handsome you were at your youthful 46 years. Yours was the last open-casket funeral I ever attended. I would have rather remembered you umpiring behind the plate. I would have rather remembered playing a round of golf with you.
But what really distressed me was when the preacher giving your eulogy said, "God decided that Howard Wooldridge needed to be called to heaven much earlier than expected."
I sat there in the pew, stunned! Why would God pull you, our father, away from our family to be in heaven"when you, our father was needed MUCH more on Earth to take care of your wife and kids? At 17, that was the last time that I ever thought God made any sense. Especially since you had attended church every Sunday of my entire life! You put money in the basket when you didn't have money to put in the basket. You and mom were good, wholesome, kind and loving couple. To take you away made no sense, whatsoever.
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