Sunday, October 16, 2005

Going back

Originally Posted in '02

"Last night I said goodbye.


I carefully tucked my remaining journals and memorabilia into a box. I cried as I put the lid on, and slid the once empty box back on its shelf in my closet. Last night I learned that saying goodbye to someone doesn’t mean you are forgetting….


You knew my name before I was even born. You wept with joy when I came into this world. You were there to greet me. You held me in your arms, and kissed my forehead. I brought your life a new purpose.

You held my hand when I met my little brother for the first time. You dried the tears that came from the pain of falling from my first bike. You were there to shoot home videos of my romp with the sprinkler in the backyard. Your face lit up at my very presence.You drove on my field trips. You watched my dances. You cheered when I scored a goal. You begged me to sing for you. You wanted nothing but the best for me.


You watched me grow up. Looking at my face became a mirror image for you. You taught me the difference between right and wrong. You taught me to stand up for my self. You taught me to love the Lord.You saw me win the lead in the 7th grade musical Grease. You told everyone you knew that I was playing Sandy. You watched me develop life long friends. You watched me being admired by the boys. You watched your little girl turn into a young woman.


Somewhere along the line, your physical presence left. I broke into a million pieces. I held on to everything that reminded me of you. I vowed to never let go. Today is somewhat different. Almost everything I had held onto, I put into that box. Ticket stubs from movies we had seen. Notes you had written to me. Petals from the roses that lay atop your coffin just moments before they laid you to rest. My number 12 jersey. Your favorite tie. Too many priceless, irreplaceable objects…

Although I say goodbye to the things, I will never truly say goodbye to you. You are a part of me. So often people who knew you will say to me ‘You are just like your dad’. And I know that I am. If ever it was possible to make a carbon copy of your self, well, you did it. It’s me.I no longer see your eyes, except for in the mirror. I know you still watch me. I know that you are still with me. I still have so much to do, so much to accomplish. I know you’ll be there- in my heart. You’ve run your race. And now you are at the finish line, cheering me on.

Dad, I love you. And as hard as it is to do, I am moving on. I’ve taken the lessons you have taught, the love you have shown, and I hidden them in my heart. You are such a part of me, you always will be. But I know now that it is time to begin relying on my heavenly father, OUR father.

You were always my hero. The wind beneath my wings- I sang it at your funeral, you know. Today I choose to take refuge in the shadow of Jesus. I choose to take my cross and follow him. I choose to let him be my strength, and ‘mount on wings as eagles’. And I am confident that no choice I could ever make would make you more proud to be my dad. "


Last night I opened the box. I sat in my rocking chair and held your ties. I used them to wipe my tears. I looked through the photographs of you and I, playing soccer, at awards banquets. I re-read letters that your friends had written me after you died- telling me stories of how they met you, how you influenced their lives, how they were going to miss you. I sat and sobbed for what seemed like hours. My heart hurt so badly I felt as if it might have burst. I thought about you, and what it must have felt like to know your heart had stopped working. I wonder if you knew that is what was happening. I wonder about the last thoughts that went through your mind. I know you took your last breath while looking into my eyes. Did you feel my hands holding yours? Did you recognize the fear in my eyes? I remember the fear in yours...


In less than 2 weeks they will be holding the Annual Randy Langan Memorial Soccer Tournament in your honor. I've promised myself that I will go. I'm going to sit and watch a game. I hate to be back on the field, dad, I fear every emotion that may surface. I'm scared. I want to run away again.


I don't want strength this year. I want brokeness. I've held on to the pain for long, it has become a part of me, and I know it's going to hurt as it begins to wear away. God, if you are listening- I NEED YOU TO HOLD ME THROUGH THIS!

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