When I moved to Kenya the first time in 1993 my dad was the most interested in the venture. To my surprise Dad wrote me letters and sent articles much more than my mom. I think that if he had felt well enough to travel he would have loved to visit me in Kenya. I even proposed it back then. But Mom told me he wasn’t physically up to it (even that early) to come this far.
Dad had a real zest for life. Far more than my mom, I am like my dad; more adventurous and interested in all sorts of different personalities. He was a great cook. Dad also had a love of sports and the great outdoors. He appreciated the artists in our family and promoted us whenever he could. His funeral was the day before Thanksgiving in 2000. It was standing room only because Dad had so many friends from clubs and volunteer work, neighbors and church members. It’s been a whole decade without him. I suppose I’m used to being fatherless. But there are times when I would sure love to talk to him again; ask advice on cooking or hear a story of when he was young.As I was reading this week I just “happened” to come upon Psalm 10. The end of verse 14 talks about how God cares for the fatherless. It’s so true and I am thankful even while I miss my earthly father.
(My parents with a nephew around 20 years ago.)