Dark Glass Ponderings

I was hoping to post some pictures here.  My aunt has sent me some wonderful pictures of my father as a child, unfortunately they take up too much room to post.

Although Father's Day is past, several people have advised me around this time I should take a few minutes to think back over all the positive memories I have made with my father. Writing can be healing and I am choosing to remember my dad through writing for a few minutes today. 

(I wanted to share something that's helped me a lot in hopes it might help others who grieve.  Several years ago I decided to make my Dad's birthday a celebration of his life by visiting with my family and/or my brother an unusual restaurant on October 8 every year.  Though bittersweet at times, it has been a great way to remember and focus on the positive memories.  I think especially when someone we love has died over a long period of time, as with cancer, it can be easier to remember the way they were during the end.  I want to keep the earlier, happier memories alive).

Some of my favorite memories of my father are surrounding food.  My brother and I both love to cook and frequently cook without cookbooks.  I believe this is part of Dad's heritage on our lives.  Dad would literally spend hours every day cooking, often in the late night hours.  I really think Dad had a special ministry around food.  It wasn't unusual for him to make us a late night surprise gourmet meal.  It was at these times that I had some of my best talks with my Dad. 

Dad was what I've heard called a "Renaissance" man.  He was an avid reader, who taught himself to repair many things by reading manuals.  He was also known for owning and reading many cookbooks (some of which I treasure on my dining room shelf)...although he never actually cooked using the cookbooks.  He was an avid reader of the newspaper as well.  My husband is an amazing debater and so intelligent on many topics...I think its so true that we look for wonderful characteristics we find in our fathers in a spouse.  I credit my father with my love of books.

Children are a great way to keep the beautiful traditions and rituals alive.  We end every night with prayers, hugs, stuffed animal rituals, and a silly poem my Dad used to say to us.  I can remember my Dad when I make silly hand puppets with the kids...or try a new recipe.  I can see him when my son smiles, watch his presence as I watch my daughter's artistic abilities blossom.  I'm cheering for him as I watch my brother attend cooking school.  Maybe his death has actually blessed me to see his presence in places I otherwise would not have noticed. 

I was just going to write this for me, but am going to post it because I know there are others here that have gone through grieving or are currently going through this process. 

It is of the Lord's mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. -Lamentations 3:22

I'm thinking of these verses from one of my favorite hymns today:

Great is thy faithfulness; oh, God, my Father
There is no shadow of turning with thee
Thou changest not; Thy compassions they fail not
As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow
Blessings all mine with ten thousands besides