Dad. Thirteen years on.

I am in Omaha Nebraska today for meetings for the church board I am a part of. It was alright mostly. Emotional and a bit of a challenge sometimes, but they are good people on the board I get to work with and we did good work today.

But mid way through the day I did a double take and realized that it was June 24th. My dad died today, 13 years ago.

I've missed him a lot this year.
I find as I age that there are questions I have for him. Maybe because I am aging or maybe I am maturing, but I would love to have a few real good conversations with him.

And I've longed to ask him questions about his health challenges. Did he feel this way, or what happened when he felt that way. What did he do when he couldn't work any longer and how did he know that. Sometimes my health challenges remind me of what I think I remember about his story. But without him able to tell me, a new symptom is an unknow thing to me. So I ignore it, but it bugs me inside and I wonder.

Anyway, there are much worse things in this world, and this week we meet with pastors who are very broken. Much worse things.

But today I just missed my dad.