Thank You Dad for Showing Me the Old Trails

20130616-134855.jpgA little over 4 moths ago I called my parents, who live in Oklahoma, and told them that I felt this was the end of Lindy’s battle. While I had no concrete proof, my tears told me so. I just had a little voice in my personal spirit that led me to make the call to them. My Dad started up the car and he and my Mom were in Dallas 3 hours later. After getting them settled in at my house, we headed back to the rehab hospital Lindy was in, Zale Lypshy. I had been staying there to be next to my wife every second. It had been well over 2 months that we were in hospitals. It felt so long, but now it seems so fast. I felt like a person devoid of reality.

Reality soon took shape.

On the way back to Zale I got the call. Dr. Mahr said the results from her latest MRI showed the end was imminent. I got to the lobby and just sobbed on my mom and dads shoulder for what felt like an eternity. I’m sobbing now as I write this. All I can remember was the short conversation just a week earlier. Lindy told me she couldn’t take another bad scan. She was never told of this scan. She knew nothing other than we were headed home the next day. On Wednesday we took her home to hospice. Ten days later she went home to be with God.

My parents didn’t go home for almost a month. They stayed through hospice through the funeral we had a week after her passing. During hospice, my dad did what he does best: supports unconditionally. He sat at my kitchen table in silence just teeming with strength. He was reading the bible, praying and generally helping where we needed it. His presence was strength enough for me to still hold hope that she would beat this tumor like she beat the rest. I took so much comfort just having him sitting their ready to help. He just sat in silence. He was observing to find where he can help. He also offered soothing words at the right time, or a distraction with a comment right when it was needed. His presence has always poured a hidden comfort over me. Hidden till today. He helped me right through the funeral arrangments by just being by my side.

I love my father so much. I thank him most of all for showing me the “old trails” or ancient paths of God at such a young age. It was an anchor I had cut loose for 22 years. I was an obstinate agnostic until my wife was taken from me. I was sitting in church this morning listening to the”Fathers Day” service they had orchestrated. While they were taking offering this guy sang a song that really grab me. It was about sending your son out into the world and reminding him that when he gets lost he just has to remember the “old paths.” They will lead him back to rest and peace.

Jeremiah 6:16
This is what the Lord says:
“Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.

It made me want to give thanks for my Dad and the solid foundation he and my mother gave me as a kid in Jesus Christ. It’s because of you that I found that path back to God. It ran in front of me the whole time. I just couldn’t see it.

Happy Fathers Day from a grateful son.

I am still trying to find my path that God wants me to walk. I am unsure how my story will unfold, but “Glory to God, Glory to God! In fullness of wisdom, He writes my story into his song. His bow is on the strings, the tune resonates in open space to show how emptiness sings.”

Day 125 (The Closer the Text…the Further the Fall)

I am happy that God has given me the gift of expressing my true thoughts through music, even if it only sounds good to me. I am living the tribute to my departed wife. She will forever be celebrated in my life. The words of gratitude for the gifts her magnetism and wisdom have left me can’t seem to surf their way to my lips, except in song.

I told my therapist today that I can take stabs, and picture the words I want to say in a conversation, but blahbuggabish is what comes out most of the time. I was never that articulate to begin with, but I could always make sense, even after a half-of-a- fifth of Jack! Heck, I built a music career on that! At least I thought I did. Thank God for the sense my wife put in me about the abyss that was for me personally. Doubt I could have ever got on a transplant list drinking the way I drank back then.

What I feel I may have accomplished with this new album is an opening, a genesis of my deepest feeling of my love, admiration and thankfulness I have for Lindy. She epitomized “No braver soul behold” with the way she battled cancer. Her lore will span life to death as her balled will be told. I pray I can do her memory justice with the fashion with which I live on in her remembrance.