Why aren’t you here?

My Dad has been on my mind a little more than usual lately.  Here are my struggles with his loss…even now.  I hope that this helps someone else that may be struggling this Christmas with the loss of their loved one…

Why aren’t you here?  My heart asks…as I search deep for answers.  I see struggles and conflicts…things you would have resolved.  Where are you with the advice that I seek and need?  Where are you with the help that I look for?  I miss the directions when I am lost (which still happens all too often).  I miss you being here to check out the boys that my girls bring home…to give them your third degree and harassment as you had planned.  And although it didn’t seem like I followed what you said (because you know I like to blaze my own path), I really did always listen.  When I see a picture or think of something you did, my heart aches a little.  Why aren’t you here?  You should be here.  I struggle sometimes because I think there is still work that you were to do and now you are not here to do it.  I see things left undone that you would have tackled and I wonder…am I really suppose to take care of that?  The thought of “God needed you more than we did” really doesn’t bring me comfort because I don’t believe that.  You are needed here…still.  I miss making fun of your sometimes tacky apparel (even though you were trying to be stylish).  I miss your denial that you were losing your hearing…knowing all the time you didn’t hear half the conversations that were going on.  I miss your kind heart and your gentle spirit…with a fight that never gave up.  It would be comforting to hear you say that you are proud of me…knowing that if you said it, you meant it.  We rarely saw eye to eye and disagreed about most everything.  But, we both enjoyed the challenge – and in the end, I grew because of those debates.  And my heart screams…WHY AREN’T YOU HERE?

I don’t know the answer…I guess I never will.  What I do have though are the memories.  I have the advice that you did give stored away in my heart and yes, I even use it sometimes.  I see the fruits of your labor all around me.  I still talk to people who had their lives changed because of something you said or did.  I enjoy shocking people by how much I look like you.  I am trying to pick up where you left off…yet in true “Brad style”…you know the style that drove you crazy.  That makes me laugh a little…or a lot.  I love to talk about what a great man you were…and I even get a little enjoyment when my girls make fun of the way I dress.  While I will never be you…nor would you want me to…I want to continue on the ministry…blazing that trail…and thanking God that I am privileged to be a Mitchell.  I don’t know why you aren’t here…but I am sure glad God saw fit to send you here for the years that you were.  I am the man I am because of you….Thank you.

dad-brad

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