By Whitney.....
I was a mess for a long while after Daddy died. I tried to keep it to myself, and for the most part I succeeded. But I had lingering questions and at the time shortly after his death, I had not yet read many of Daddy's writings, so I had virtually no answers. I know it sounds strange to many of you, believe me, it is strange to us too, but since his death, my sister and I have become firm believers in signs. I don't know if they have always been there or not, but I can say that every single time I have needed something, anything, to help me through a rough patch or just give me encouragement, I have had a sign. Some are much bigger and more obvious, others are very small, but the meaning to us is still the same. It's almost like in death, Daddy can be the encourager that he was never able to be in life.
I wrote the following on February 24, 2011, just five weeks after Daddy died. To this day, this story still gives me such a feeling of warmth and peace.
For five weeks, I had been asking God to send me a sign. There were just too many things that I was feeling uncertain about regarding my daddy. I was drowning in fear and sadness and I didn't really feel that I could explain it to anyone. I didn't talk to anyone about how I was feeling because I had made the choice not to have him in my life and I felt hypocritical about missing him now. I smiled, went to work, cleaned my house, and did what I was supposed to do. People commented on how well I was doing, but I had nagging questions. Questions that nobody could answer because the one they were directed at was gone, (and I would give anything for five more minutes with him) but haunting questions that were causing me pain. I needed answers.......desperately, for my own peace of mind.
So I asked God specifically for answers to two things. First, I needed to know if Daddy was in Heaven. I hadn't talked to him in a long time. I really had no idea where his heart was when he died, and so this bothered me a lot. Secondly, I needed to know that he knew that I loved him. Because, once again, I hadn't seen him....hadn't talked to him, and had only communicated with him in a few letters and pictures because that is truly all I could handle. It doesn't mean I didn't love him, because I did. And I still do. I just didn't love who he was when he was drinking. So I prayed and I prayed specifically for those answers. Sometimes signs are hard to read...and sometimes they smack you right in the face.
Last Saturday night around 9:00, I was sitting on my bed, with my laptop, reading blogs. I started noticing helicopters flying over our house. First one or two, then obviously more. Brian had been outside and said that there were police cars everywhere, driving up and down the streets around our neighborhood, shining bright spotlights everywhere. We live in a very nice suburban area; this was rather unusual. Brian told me I should stay in the house because clearly the police were looking for someone, and we didn't know who or why. Of course, I went right outside, in my pajamas, to see for myself. (Guess I need to work on that whole "obey" thing) I was walking toward the corner when I looked across the street from our house and noticed an older lady, very upset, talking on a cell phone. As I started toward her, she ran forward and began to embrace an older man, with a golf club in his hand, who had just walked up from the intersecting street. She kept hollering at him, "Where have you been???" and "I was so worried about you!" It was painful to watch; the man just stood there and smiled through his beard and the poor lady was shaking and sobbing, so scared and upset. I walked across the street, introduced myself, and asked her if I could help her. She was so sweet and told me that her name was Jacquie, and her husband had Alzheimer's. He had gone out the front door, thinking he could go play golf even though it was dark. She hadn't known where he was and she was terrified. I stood there as she called 911 to tell the police to discontinue the search, and I smiled at the dear man with the golf club. There was something about him that I felt I knew. I was drawn to him. My heart swelled a bit. I really can't describe it. I looked deep into his twinkling eyes and said, "Goodness, you gave everybody a scare" and he smiled at me as I patted his arm.
Again a feeling of knowing....a kinship....a connection....something.....
I told this dear lady that I would gladly take her to get new locks for her house the next morning and that my husband would come and install them for her. She was so precious and grateful. We exchanged phone numbers and I promised to pick her up the next morning at 10:00. A sweet hug, another pat on the arm and a new friendship begun, and they turned to head back to their house down the street. And then I realized that I didn't know his name. So I quietly said, "Jacquie, what is his name?" And she looked me right in the eye and said with a smile, "His name is Jerry."
And at that moment, I KNEW without a doubt. My answer, my sign. Smacking me across the face, just as clear as it could possibly be. His name is Jerry. Just like my daddy. The kinship, the connection......the fact that I think I loved this man from the moment I saw him walking down the street, in the dark, carrying a lone golf club as I stood there on the sidewalk in my pajamas. His name is Jerry. My answer....And my Daddy is okay....he knows I love him. He is in Heaven.
And I have my very own sign from God, living right down the street.
I was a mess for a long while after Daddy died. I tried to keep it to myself, and for the most part I succeeded. But I had lingering questions and at the time shortly after his death, I had not yet read many of Daddy's writings, so I had virtually no answers. I know it sounds strange to many of you, believe me, it is strange to us too, but since his death, my sister and I have become firm believers in signs. I don't know if they have always been there or not, but I can say that every single time I have needed something, anything, to help me through a rough patch or just give me encouragement, I have had a sign. Some are much bigger and more obvious, others are very small, but the meaning to us is still the same. It's almost like in death, Daddy can be the encourager that he was never able to be in life.
I wrote the following on February 24, 2011, just five weeks after Daddy died. To this day, this story still gives me such a feeling of warmth and peace.
For five weeks, I had been asking God to send me a sign. There were just too many things that I was feeling uncertain about regarding my daddy. I was drowning in fear and sadness and I didn't really feel that I could explain it to anyone. I didn't talk to anyone about how I was feeling because I had made the choice not to have him in my life and I felt hypocritical about missing him now. I smiled, went to work, cleaned my house, and did what I was supposed to do. People commented on how well I was doing, but I had nagging questions. Questions that nobody could answer because the one they were directed at was gone, (and I would give anything for five more minutes with him) but haunting questions that were causing me pain. I needed answers.......desperately, for my own peace of mind.
So I asked God specifically for answers to two things. First, I needed to know if Daddy was in Heaven. I hadn't talked to him in a long time. I really had no idea where his heart was when he died, and so this bothered me a lot. Secondly, I needed to know that he knew that I loved him. Because, once again, I hadn't seen him....hadn't talked to him, and had only communicated with him in a few letters and pictures because that is truly all I could handle. It doesn't mean I didn't love him, because I did. And I still do. I just didn't love who he was when he was drinking. So I prayed and I prayed specifically for those answers. Sometimes signs are hard to read...and sometimes they smack you right in the face.
Last Saturday night around 9:00, I was sitting on my bed, with my laptop, reading blogs. I started noticing helicopters flying over our house. First one or two, then obviously more. Brian had been outside and said that there were police cars everywhere, driving up and down the streets around our neighborhood, shining bright spotlights everywhere. We live in a very nice suburban area; this was rather unusual. Brian told me I should stay in the house because clearly the police were looking for someone, and we didn't know who or why. Of course, I went right outside, in my pajamas, to see for myself. (Guess I need to work on that whole "obey" thing) I was walking toward the corner when I looked across the street from our house and noticed an older lady, very upset, talking on a cell phone. As I started toward her, she ran forward and began to embrace an older man, with a golf club in his hand, who had just walked up from the intersecting street. She kept hollering at him, "Where have you been???" and "I was so worried about you!" It was painful to watch; the man just stood there and smiled through his beard and the poor lady was shaking and sobbing, so scared and upset. I walked across the street, introduced myself, and asked her if I could help her. She was so sweet and told me that her name was Jacquie, and her husband had Alzheimer's. He had gone out the front door, thinking he could go play golf even though it was dark. She hadn't known where he was and she was terrified. I stood there as she called 911 to tell the police to discontinue the search, and I smiled at the dear man with the golf club. There was something about him that I felt I knew. I was drawn to him. My heart swelled a bit. I really can't describe it. I looked deep into his twinkling eyes and said, "Goodness, you gave everybody a scare" and he smiled at me as I patted his arm.
Again a feeling of knowing....a kinship....a connection....something.....
I told this dear lady that I would gladly take her to get new locks for her house the next morning and that my husband would come and install them for her. She was so precious and grateful. We exchanged phone numbers and I promised to pick her up the next morning at 10:00. A sweet hug, another pat on the arm and a new friendship begun, and they turned to head back to their house down the street. And then I realized that I didn't know his name. So I quietly said, "Jacquie, what is his name?" And she looked me right in the eye and said with a smile, "His name is Jerry."
And at that moment, I KNEW without a doubt. My answer, my sign. Smacking me across the face, just as clear as it could possibly be. His name is Jerry. Just like my daddy. The kinship, the connection......the fact that I think I loved this man from the moment I saw him walking down the street, in the dark, carrying a lone golf club as I stood there on the sidewalk in my pajamas. His name is Jerry. My answer....And my Daddy is okay....he knows I love him. He is in Heaven.
And I have my very own sign from God, living right down the street.