I want to share a brief memory from last summer:
We had a big family reunion in June. Near the end of the day, my two grand-nieces, Jaydee and Kendra, were being shuttled off to a week of summer camp. The pre-teen daughters each took their turn giving kisses and hugs (enough to last a whole week) to their dad, George. I happened to be sitting across the table from George during this family ritual. I saw Kendra, in her NY Yankees baseball cap, as she threw her arms around his neck and covered his face with kisses. Then she put her head against his chest and rubbed with all her might.
“HEY!” George reprimanded, “Get that Yankee stuff away from me!” (I guess he was a Red Sox fan). Kendra giggled and George laughed out loud, and she skipped away to camp.
I feel blessed to have witnessed this loving moment between father and daughter.
I have faith that no one – not even George at age 44 – lives one second less than God intended them to live. His work here was done.
Even though our hearts are breaking, we trust George is home for Christmas.
(George’s wife blogs at http://cdroses2.blogspot.com/)
His mother-in-law, my sister is on http://firstname.lastname@example.org )