I didn't know real loss until my dad died.
I didn't know how it felt. I never imagined how deep it was. I didn't know how sneaky it was, either. I mean - you think you've scabbed over and you've healed until a cheeky little memory peeks around your cerebrum, drums up a million sobs worth of emotion, and then leaks down your face.
I didn't know how truly BADLY I could miss someone.
I've discovered something, though. It's not a cure for missing someone, but it's close. Think of it more as a salve for the soul.
It's words.
All someone has to do is talk to you and tell you something they remember about your loved one. It doesn't have to be a huge life lesson. It doesn't have to be a speech. It doesn't matter if it's a funny story or a touching memory or even a seemingly boring tidbit about what your dad did with the food on his plate every supper growing up. Whatever the words - they soothe the aching heart!
It happened again just the other day. Someone I hadn't seen in decades shared a few words with me. He and his three high school buddies were out golfing just a few weeks before. He said that my dad's name came up. All of them talked about Dad for a while. How they learned how to golf from him. How they loved him as a coach and a principal. And how they loved playing ping pong with him, too.
Ping pong?
My soul soared!
Later I replayed all of his kind words a few times in my head. It was joyous! Just thinking that someone else had been thinking and talking about my dad. . . . The idea that he meant something to someone else. . . . That my father was still remembered and missed. . . .
His words didn't cost anything.
But what a gift!
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