by David Harder
“To my surprise, Dad said, ‘Thank you for telling me, Stephanie.’ I started to get up and leave when Dad stopped me in my tracks. He said, ‘Tell me, Stephanie, do you see the video camera sitting on the coffee table?’ To my absolute horror, I spotted the family video camera sitting on the coffee table, pointing at the Christmas tree. Ill feelings and guilt washed over me anew. Dad picked up the camera and held it in his hands. ‘If we were to watch the video on this camera, what do you suppose we would see, Stephanie?’ I was busted, guilty, and had no excuses. My face was beet red from embarrassment.
“Instantly, I confessed my sins and told Dad about everything. I started crying and blathered on and on about how sorry I was. Dad just smiled and hugged me, saying, ‘Stephanie, never be afraid to tell the truth.’ That’s the kind of dad we grew up with. Although you thought you had gotten away with something, Dad was always one step ahead. Sadly, years later, Dad disclosed that the camera was sitting there turned off and not recording. He knew I was guilty of something but couldn’t prove it. When Dad saw the video camera sitting on the coffee table, he instantly hatched his ruse to trick me. He and I have shared hours of laughter over the incident since.
“I’m grateful Mr. Martin shared the story about the homeless woman. Oftentimes, Dad would stop and assist homeless individuals. He wouldn’t initially give them money when they asked; but if they were hungry, he would buy them food and meet their needs. I’ve seen him buy coats, sleeping bags, tents, and blankets for complete strangers. Mother would get infuriated with Dad’s actions, but it left a permanent impression on me growing up. Once, dad spotted a woman and small child begging on a street corner. We loaded them into our car, and Dad took them to a nearby hotel. He paid for the room and had the manager order groceries. I found out later that Dad contacted a woman’s shelter and moved them to the facility.”
Stephanie looked down at Robert, who was smiling and nodding in agreement.
“The only time I ever saw Dad sad was when mom died. It was something I could not understand because they really didn’t love each other that much. When I asked him about it, Dad said he was sorry for us and the loss of a woman who gave birth to his three children. He said he respected her contribution to the family, although he and Mom didn’t see eye-to-eye on everything. Dad may not have liked Mom, but he respected her as our mother. Our father was a rare individual, and the world is less because of his death. I will miss him and the many times we talked, or argued, about various subjects.”
Stephanie looked down at the urn and table containing her father’s ashes.
“Dad, I hope you’ve found peace and are having a great time in heaven. Just wish we had you around a little longer. I love you, Dad.”
Stephanie blotted tears, pausing at the front table. When she regained composure, she walked back to her seat. Robert stood and gave his sister a tight hug, whispering into her ear, “I love you, Stephanie. Thank you for a great eulogy.”
Stephanie smiled. “Thank you, Robert.”
When Robert walked to the front, he clutched a yellowed letter envelope in his hand. Taking a moment to stare at the envelope, Robert held the sealed envelope up with one hand.
“My dad gave this to me. I received it the day Mr. Toncetti read his will. I haven’t opened it because Dad said to read it today at this service. I can tell you, I have been tempted to unseal the envelope just so I can see what’s inside, but I learned something about this exercise. By having me—no, all of us—wait until today, it was a form of delayed gratification. It is a lesson I have always needed to learn. In our instant gratification society, we expect everything now, without waiting. Zap it in the microwave, and bingo—it’s done minutes later.
“Yet, if there is one thing I’ve learned—as I am now entering another four-year cycle at college—is that patience is required to achieve the things we want. I nearly graduated with a computer science degree when I changed my major, and I’m now studying to be a lawyer. Dad was not happy about my decision because he was footing the bill.”
Robert paused as a soft chuckle could be heard from the audience.
“Dad could be sensitive and voiced his strong opinion, especially concerning money. I can’t blame him because it says he cared. I think that Dad felt his career turned out okay, and it gave him license to have a say in his children’s. Don’t get me wrong—I did appreciate his interest; but, at some point, we all have to make our own choices—good or bad—and deal with the consequences. In the end, it was Dad who provided the best wisdom, and I’ll forever appreciate what he did for us.
“When I think back on my childhood, it was Dad who inserted himself in our daily lives. I’m grateful Pastor Mike shared the part about Dad working with us kids in Sunday school. I had forgotten about that. I got really jealous when my friends captured my dad’s attention, and he paid attention to them. I didn’t want to share my dad. When you have the best dad on the planet, you’re not interested in sharing. I loved my dad and wanted my friends to know he was my dad, not theirs.
“Just when you think you know your parents and have them all figured out, they surprise you. I never knew Dad was interested in painting, much less thought he would be any good at it. But when I saw his work, I was shocked. His art is really, really great. Some of the paintings are spoken for, but if you’re interested, the others are for sale. The ones with name cards are the ones spoken for. The paintings are being sold on a silent-bid basis. Please see someone at the greeting kiosk if you’re interested. The money we raise will go to a good cause—feeding the homeless.”
The people applauded.
“Now, the tough part. When an elderly grandparent dies, somehow, we can accept it. We grieve, of course, but we also recognize they lived a long life. I can tell you, I never understood the immense grief I witnessed when someone lost their child or someone who died at a young age. I don’t mean to sound callous, but I thought, okay they died, and it’s sad of course, but we move on. Then I lost my mom and shortly afterward lost my father. It felt like someone sucker-punched me in the gut.”
Robert tightly gripped the lectern, fighting back his emotions. After a period of silence, Robert looked up. His eyes were red and moist.
“Nothing prepares you for the feelings. I was mad, distraught, angry again, glum, and incredibly sad. The feelings shifted quickly, and I couldn’t understand why this happened to me. Yes, I know that’s selfish, but why a great man like my dad? It doesn’t seem fair. Over the last few weeks, I’ve had time to resolve my feelings somewhat. I now have tremendous sympathy for people who have lost their child or someone young. No, let me correct that. I have sympathy for anyone who has lost someone they love because it really hurts!
“The things we’re left with are our memories, pictures, videos, and mementos—trinkets, really. They’ll never replace the person we so desperately want to have one more conversation with, one more opportunity to laugh with. It’s an empty feeling knowing that my parents are gone, and I’ll never get to talk with them again. They’ll never get to see their grandchildren. I’ll never get to discuss my future with them. I’ll never again get to say I love you. There are no more hugs. No more arguments. Nothing but my memories.
“I read something once by Mark Manson.” Robert pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “He wrote, ‘Here’s the truth. We exist on this earth for some undetermined period of time. During that time, we do things. Some of these things are important. And those important things give our lives meaning and happiness. The unimportant ones basically just kill time.’
“So, I ask you, which things are you spending your time on? The important ones? Or are you just killing time? I know for a fact that Dad wasn’t killing time. If you walk out of here with anything, you should have a sense that my dad never wasted time. He crammed a whole lot more into life than many of us combined. His was a wonderful life, and, I will horribly miss him.”
Bowing his head, Robert couldn’t hold back the tears, so he hung his head in silence. Both
Stephanie and Staci jumped from their seats and ran to Robert’s side. The three siblings knotted together and sobbed. Finally, Robert regained composure. He thanked his sisters and waited for them to return to their seats.
“Sorry, folks. I’m not sure what came over me. Now, where was I?” He looked down at his piece of paper. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “Dad’s life begs the question—what are we doing with our lives? Dad cared for us kids, took care of the homeless, traveled all over the world, painted like Michelangelo, donated blood by the gallons, taught Sunday school, and excelled in his career. My efforts pale in comparison. How about yours? We all could take a lesson from Dad’s example. I may be young, but I’m learning. I just wish I had noticed all this before Dad died.
“Thank you, Mr. Martin, Dr. Nolan, Pastor Mike, Uncle Joe, and Arleen. You have given us a wealth of knowledge about our father. I really appreciate you and what you shared with us today. I’m touched by your honesty and the intimate details you’ve shared. I know much more about my father because of your words. I also have a deeper appreciation for Dad.”
Robert held up the yellowed envelope.
“And now the mystery envelope.” Robert again dried his eyes on a sleeve. “Dad had this prepared for some time because it’s old. I have no idea what’s inside, except that he wanted it read today.”
Taking his finger, Robert worked the flap of the envelope open, being careful not to tear anything. The room watched in anticipation. Robert scanned the page and smiled. He started to chuckle and then finally looked up.
“The following quote is copied from a book, titled The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Gentleman by Hunter S. Thompson. I gotta tell you, folks, this really summarizes my dad because only my dad would choose something like this for his own funeral,” Robert said as he pointed at the page.
Lifting the paper up, Robert kept a straight face and carefully read the excerpt. He cleared his throat. “‘Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out and loudly proclaiming Wow! What a ride!’ This describes my dad perfectly.”
The room stood to their feet and loudly applauded. Robert walked back to his sisters and embraced them. Nate, Dr. Nolan, Pastor Mike, Joe, and Arleen encircled the trio, forming a huddle of wet eyes and grateful hearts.
EPILOGUE
THE PAIN WAS EXCRUCIATING. EACH panting breath was like a fire stabbing in the lungs. The mind raced in and out of consciousness. Disconnected memories of the past, visions about the present, and toils over unfinished business played out in the mind. Throughout the body, the only sensory working was intense pain. It was impossible to focus on a single area of hurt, for the entire body was in complete overload.
Unable to distinguish between night and day, the seconds labored into hours, the hours stretched into endless days. Nearly delirious, the brain cried out in muted silence, screaming for it to stop, yet no one answered. The withered man lying in bed was certain that what he was experiencing was as close to a living hell as anyone could get.
God, why can’t you hear me? James thought. Please make this stop—even for one minute!
If at that hour, someone was standing next to James, they would have heard nothing, except the raspy and rapid panting of a dying man. In his ears, James listened to the drumming of his fast heartbeat—the monotonous percussion compounding his torture.
One minute, a cacophony similar to an out-of-tune orchestra mixed with the glaring sounds of a harried city intersection was blasting in James’ head, but then instant silence. No, not silence, but far purer—the absence of all sounds. Not what one would experience in the forest or mountain top because, even there, one will hear faint sounds. At this very moment, James heard nothing! It wasn’t unnerving or frightening at all, but peaceful. Just minutes before the silence, James was confident he would go completely insane, but now there was tranquil solitude. It was a little confusing.
In the undisturbed peace, James became acutely aware he was no longer in pain. Wait! No, it wasn’t that the hurting ceased; there was absolutely nothing. No pain. No feelings at all—just serenity and peace. Plus, his body felt weightless.
The room had been dark, but now warm, bright light began to consume the darkness—similar to when damp morning fog, thick as soup, hangs in the air, until the early sun rises and warms the earth. As the sun penetrates the sky, the fog retreats and vaporizes, vanishing into nothing. So, it seemed that the black abyss that surrounded James moments earlier was now disappearing and being replaced with soothing light. As the darkness faded, the light grew warmer and more intense.
James could see his bed beneath him. A withered, frail, dead, and gray corpse lay motionless. Rather than feeling disgusted, James felt immense compassion and love.
Was that me a moment ago? Did I look that horrible?
The weightlessness increased, and James began to ascend into more light. The intensity and whiteness were brighter than a thousand suns.
Surrounding James were points of light, swimming and swirling around. Like sparks flying above a fiery pit or fireflies dancing in the night sky, there were hundreds and thousands. James could sense their individual light as they moved past him. Are you angels? James thought. Suddenly, the scene changed, and picturesque, snowcapped mountains appeared, sweeping meadows. The images were more intense and beautiful than anything he had ever seen in a National Geographic magazine. The colors were pure.
Millions of blurry beings moved about, but then one prominent Individual came into focus and slowly moved toward James. Appearing as a collage of every picture countless artists had created, and yet unlike any of them at the same time, a Being bearing the image of a man approached James. Instantly, James plunged toward the Man.
“Jesus!”
There were no formal introductions, but James could make no mistake about the Man. Immense joy swept over James, and he and the Being blended together in what one might describe as an embrace.
“I love you so much, Jesus. You’re more beautiful than I imagined.”
In a smooth, velvet voice, Jesus greeted him, “Welcome home, James.”
Their embrace lasted an eternity, and as impossible as it might seem, the light enveloping Jesus and James was even more intense and loving than anything experienced thus far. When the intimacy of this moment quieted, Jesus looked intently into James.
“There is someone who has waited a long time to see you. She’s been asking me when you would be arriving. Come, I would like to introduce you to her.”
From among the myriad of beings just out of focus, a beautiful, elderly woman appeared. Silver curls framed her smiling face as she moved closer.
“James, you’re finally here.” She embraced him with a motherly hug.
“I’m afraid you have an advantage over me, for I don’t recognize you. Although I must admit, you do seem familiar.” James frowned.
“Really? You don’t recognize me at all?” she asked with a grin.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
“But you’re the reason why I’m here.”
Jesus smiled. “Perhaps we should help him out, Ethel?”
She nodded. As if by magic, the woman was transformed. Her radiant smile was quickly replaced with a toothless grin, and her appearance resembled a homeless woman. She held up a yellow rubber boot. She giggled like a little girl.
“Oh! It’s you!” James exclaimed. “You’re the homeless woman, trying to wear the child’s rubber boots.”
Instantly, she changed into the beautiful woman again. They embraced this time with deep meaning.
“Thank you for your kindness and love, James.”
As they embraced, James looked up at Jesus, Who was smiling.
“Ethel, is it?”
She nodded. “Yes, and because of your kindness that day, I met a street preacher who told me about Jesus. You see, your act of kindness prepa
red my heart to receive something new. I was penniless and dying. No one paid attention to me. I figured God had given up on me. Then I prayed and asked God to send me an angel. Just then, you appeared. You got out of the taxi and showed me great kindness. I cannot thank you enough.” She began kissing his face.
With his soft voice, Jesus interrupted, “You had more influence than you imagined, James. Ethel is just the beginning. Many, many lives were altered because of your love. I have someone else I’d like you to meet. Like Ethel, she’s waited a long while to see you.”
Ethel released James, and he turned to face another blurry image coming into focus. Instantly, he ran toward the woman, so familiar and yet long gone from his life. James dropped to his knees and hugged her tightly.
“Mom, I have missed you so much. I am desperately glad to see you.”
With a benevolent smile, she looked down and said, “James, my son, you look so much like your father. It’s good to see you.”
James wept tears of joy as he embraced his mother. “Oh, how I love you, Mom.”
Their embrace lasted a long time. Neither spoke, but through their touch, they communicated what each felt inside their inner being. When James finally raised his head, he saw that they were surrounded by hundreds of beings. Some were long-passed relatives, friends, and people James had known throughout his lifetime. It was a reunion of many souls, disconnected through death on earth but reconnected in heaven. The sheer joy of seeing souls lost long ago made James incredibly happy.
When the grand reunion was finally at a close, James looked around for Jesus. “Where did He go?”
A tall being, clothed in a long white robe with massive wings attached behind his shoulders appeared, and James instantly thought he knew who this was.