Missing Alfalfa

Two years ago today. The call that I knew would someday come. The one that would make the goodbye permanent. April 25, 2008. I miss you, dad. Always. I have for so, so long.

This is the letter I received from my then sixteen year-old daughter at our time of loss. I love her beyond words. Who knew that it would be my own child who would have the words that spoke so dearly to my heart?

Mom,

“Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond our understanding; and that there is always tomorrow.” ~Dorothy Thompson

This world promises sorrow and despair, longing and hopelessness. God promises that He will provide this journey with a safe landing.
Despondency and uncertainty, in the past led me to believe that I had no need, no purpose, and no reason. Because of many thoughts and prayers, I was reassured that God is good, and His promise is, well, a promise. He does not fail. I pray that you remember this as you grieve. Remember that there will be bumps on this roadway of life but there will be gold on the roadway of a life that is coming.

“Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; He is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love Him and keep his commands.” ~Deuteronomy 7:9

God is with you.

All my love,
McKenzie

She also sent the lyrics to the song Shoreline by Deas Vail (see track 27 of the playlist below). I cannot listen to it without tears.

So you say I’m better off here, as dry as the shoreline in an ocean of fear.

So you say I can’t be alive until there is nothing when we’re meeting eyes again...

Day by day I wander these halls, and you’re casting a shadow onto every wall.

And all the way you ring in my ear,

from the moment I knew you were leaving me here.

This give and take, this waiting on time…

It’s this twisted up memory that I can’t unwind.

These fragile words that fall from my mouth…

I’m crumbling and crowded, but I’ve figured you out.

The shoreline calls the sea for simple words and company,

but words go on and on, till they collide and all is gone.
I dive into the deep—into the sea inside of me to find another song, to find a place where I belong.

I am leaving for the cemetery soon…to stare at a stone on which my own name, STEPHANIE, is also engraved, just beneath the words “Father of”… He was more than that. He was my first love. He was, and always will be ~ my dad.

I love you, Alfalfa.

Once upon a time--

My father was a giant…and I, a small child whose hand was easily lost in his.

When I was a little girl, my father was a king…and I was his princess.

He was a character…a jovial man who played yo-yo, the fiddle, and enjoyed water fights. I was the little one who laughed.

Years ago my father was a chef. His chili warmed the cold evenings of winter. I remember this still.

When I was young, my father was a carpenter. He created treasures with his hands from blocks of wood. These gifts are with me even today.

A long time ago, my father was a teacher. I learned important things from him, like buying just one pair of shoes is never enough.

As a child my father was invincible, but as I grew older, I knew that someday I would have to say good-bye.

But once upon a time, my father was a giant and I was his child, and nothing will ever take that away.

(originally posted on 4.27.09)