I thought that, just today, I would do my praise a bit
differently, in prose. You may not know this, but my father passed away 3 and a half
years ago. My Mother died on the 8th of this month. That means that
my siblings and I, with much help, are sorting through over 80 years of living
and accumulating memories for both of my parents. The odd little things that
they kept over the years have brought both surprise and delight and they have caused
a tear or a laugh to touch the hearts and faces of those who are sorting
through all those years.
In the course of the sorting, my aunt came across
something odd and asked me if I might know what it was. It was a handmade
envelope, made by a child, with a picture on the front and inside of it was a
handful of old pictures of my father engaged in having fun with his family. I
saw it and my heart skipped a beat. I remembered that envelope well, and I
remembered the day that I made it. All those emotions came flooding into my 57
year old brain.
I was in third grade, heading into 4th grade,
so 8 or 9 years old. My father had just received orders to Vietnam. I had drawn
a line down the middle of the envelope and placed beautiful living flowers in
bright sunshine on one side. They represented, in my young mind, my father
returning alive from the war, as some of my friend’s dads had not. The other
half depicted the same flowers, dead, in a black world with bombs exploding in
the sky instead of the sunlight. It represented the horrible possibility of never
seeing my father alive again. Inside it I placed pictures of my dad that I
slipped out of photosets that I had found in various places in our house. I
remember many times, during that year of deployment, pulling out those
pictures, when I was alone, and just praying that God would bring my Daddy home
safely. He Did.
Now, looking back over all the years that I was blessed
to share with my father, I am even more grateful than I was then for his safe
return. As a soldier’s daughter, I learned from him the value of life, the
power of faith and the true meaning of family. For all those who shared the
path my parents walked became a blessing, a friend, and, very often, family. To
this day, they call to check on me, they step up to lend me hand with what I’m
facing and they are never far from my side when troubles knock on my door.
Now, my parents have truly gone, earth is poorer and
heaven is richer. And I have an envelope of memories that I made as a child and
that my mother, whether understanding its purpose or not, found and saved with
all of her other treasures. Please, take some time to make an envelope of memories
for each of your loved ones and hold it tight in your heart. That way, when
years have passed, or only days, and God calls them home, you can open up that
envelope and smile at all the loving memories.
