This Thursday marks the 1-year point of losing my dad. I was talking to him an hour before, and then received a text, “your dad is having a medical emergency at the practice facility at the lakeside”. I drove down as quickly as I could (3 miles away), I knew he was gone when I saw him, but was still able to hold him and tell him I loved him. It’s surreal, and sad, to sit here and write this, it’s also healthy and therapeutic (I think). The concept of leaving nothing unsaid between us is what brings us the most comfort. Our family left nothing unsaid and we celebrated our appreciation for one another often. It wasn’t a once-a-year speech, it was all the time, I can literally hear my dad saying, “how fortunate are we, who gets to do this with their family”. The same comfort of leaving nothing unsaid also stings the most because we all knew how lucky we were to have him. We’ve said multiple times, the love he produced while here is directly correlated to the pain we all feel not having him here.
I ended his eulogy with “we miss you dad, we love you, and we will honor your life through living ours”…which brings me to today, we must execute on those words. I’m not speaking about my family anymore; I’m speaking to everyone reading this about their own. Honoring people we’ve loved in our lives who are no longer with us by living our best life is mandatory. I get this sounds pie in the sky for many, for me, it’s near, and raw, and good. Do you know how many times I’ve used “we will honor your life through living ours” as a catalyst to flip the switch when I’m down, when I’m coming from a place of fear, when I’m having a pity party for myself, it’s all the time! One of my dad’s best friends suggested in his speech at my dad’s service we all ask ourselves “what would Tommy do?” when facing a challenge, and knowing Tommy’s answer would probably be the right one for all of us. Who is your Tommy? Who are the people in your life who deserve you honoring them by living your best life. Call them out by name. Get your brain and heart trained to honor them more often. You get the best of both worlds. I can’t bring my dad back, God knows I wish I could, but I can think about him often and honor him through living my life.
A pic of my dad and what I wrote right after he passed last year if you care to see, http://www.sundaythoughts.com/tom-marckwardt/.
I’ll probably skip next week. For those of you who celebrate Christmas, Merry Christmas. For those who do not, Happy Holidays.
Hunter