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Twenty-four Thousand, Six Hundred and Eighty Nine is the number of days I have lived on the Earth this time around, as of today - December 29, 2019. It is also the number of days my father lived on this Earth before leaving us all long before we were ready to say good-bye. As of tomorrow, I will have lived longer than my father. It is a realization that gives me great pause, a moment in my time to seek remembrance in celebration of this man I loved so dearly, my father.

When my father Dean passed in 1991, I was not able to either take time to mourn his passing or celebrate his life because of unavoidable responsibilites I had to my own family. But I did get a chance to say good-bye and tell him that I loved him. I had to choose between seeing my father for the last time on his death bed or attend his funeral. My father's brothers picked me up from the airport and brought me to the hospital where my father came out of his coma just long enough to look me in the eye and tell me that he loved me before slipping back under a coma.

In the single hour that I had to spend with dad and my family before having to fly home, I embraced the poignant death watch and reached into my father to sense his mix of pain, love, and confusion. From my mind to his, from my heart to his, I said to him that everything was alright. I encouraged him to go to the light, not to worry about the rest of us. We would miss him always, but we would all be fine and forever love him. I could sense his acknowledgement and his appreciation for letting him go. Having been through my own near death experience by drowning over twenty years before I knew that when the moment arrives when you actually have to decide whether to stay or to go, it is very comforting to have those around you encourage you to stay or give you permission to leave and let you know they will be alright when you are gone. Within a couple days, dad left his ravaged body behind and crossed over to the other side.

You always miss those you love most, especially a parent. I don't think I ever really mourned my dad's passing, but have set about to honor him with my life by taking what he gave me and making the best of it. My life is a celebration of all the gifts those around me have given me. I certainly have my father's sense of adventure, and though he is no longer there to share a story or a smile, somehow I think he still lives vicariously through my adventures. The best I can do is take the lessons and live them in a way he would very much have approved.

The love I have for my father runs deep. My roots have been nourished by it. I don't really sit and think about him in a yearning sort of way because I have always sensed that he is there any time I think of him in a loving way or actually need his counsel (and believe me, there have been quite a few times where dad has come through loud and clear to see me through one hurdle or another).

So as of tomorrow, I'm off to explore new territory. There is no time to look back; there is only the eternal now to cherish and fill with living. From here on, I take up where dad left off. Until we meet again, let me say that I appreciate his constant companionship and abiding love. Such is the eternal bond between a father and a son!