I keep a list of possible blog post topics. They are inspired by messages, podcasts, and readings. My list took a detour this morning. Just before my father’s passing on September 22 of last year, we had some dialogue around the yard, trees, and his thoughts and opinions. My dad had his special way of easing into conversations beyond “how’s the weather?” He would lead with, “Anna, let me ask you something.” Parish and I still use that line to remember him and change it up. “Hey Parish, let me ask you something.” We would laugh and then launch into something we wanted to tell the person. You knew something deep or challenging was coming when my dad made that statement. We all knew that he really didn’t want to ask us anything, but to tell us something that had been on his mind. We had one of those conversations before he took a drastic turn in his health and passed away. So many times I’ve wanted to go back and talk about something more meaningful. A re-do. I’m thankful for the short conversation before he passed.

Last night was the day after the one year anniversary. I began to pray and ponder. I thought that the one year mark was over and it was time for me to move on with some things. “It’s been a year, Anna”. I started talking to my dad and God about not being able to see your loved ones after they are gone. “You know God, why didn’t you make heaven a place where you got a day pass to see those on Earth at least at key moments.” I smiled at myself in my wanting to control the universe and the heavens. I told my dad in my prayer that he could show his presence to me. Do something. Come in person, in my dreams, or through a song. Anything, dad, I’m listening.

I couldn’t sleep last night so I got up around 5:00. I got some coffee and did some work emails. I went downstairs to sit in a comfy chair and do Bible study. A loud “THUMP!” and then the house shook. Another, “THUMP!”, and the house shook again. I ran to check on loved ones first then memory served me well.

A tree.

The tree snapped midway. This was a huge oak tree.

Parish went outside to check and sure enough the tree my dad wanted to come down had fallen. No property damage.

It didn’t hit me until I started down the “how much more can we handle” attitude rising up in me. Through frustrated tears, I began to laugh hysterically. I felt his presence.

“Yes, my daddy, I see you.”

I knew you’d get that tree down one way or another. You win!

I miss our two stubborn spirits coming together. Thanks for the reminder to laugh and move on. I get it. I love you. I’m writing this and laughing. I can hear your laughter, too. Thanks for leaving the mailbox.

Your daughter, Anna

I heard this song today! So many parts of the song reminded me of my daddy and his songwriting. We, as a family, will be together again soon–coming home daddy, I’m coming home one day! “I can see it now. Smiling in heaven you and I.”