A thankful heart: day 17

Today is the 28th anniversary of my Dad's death. I remember waking up, it was still dark outside and the bathroom light was on. I got up and I saw my Aunt Debbie and my Grandma standing at the end of the hall and my Mom was in the bathroom, all of them were crying. I asked her what had happened and she said that my Dad had died. He had been sick for 2 years, it was a day that we knew was coming. We had watched him fight through and suffer and eventually wither away, becoming a shadow of the man he once was. Cancer and brain tumors had robbed him of his life and us of having a father and husband. I remember the next few days and the funeral, but I have virtually no memories from the following year, it's all just a blur and is all mixed up. Mom said I cried for my Dad every night for a year, which I don't remember. Today, I'm thankful for the short 7 1/2 years that I had with him. It wasn't enough, but it's better than nothing at all. I'm thankful for people who share their memories of him with us, allowing my brother and I to know him more than we did. I'm thankful that our little town saw fit to name the baseball field after him, honoring all of his hard work as a coach and teacher. I'm thankful for pictures and old tape recordings so we can still see his face, hear his voice and listen to him playing the guitar. I will see him in person again someday.