Seventeen Years

Seventeen years ago, tonight, I sat in a bewildered fog.  Seventeen years ago, this morning, I teased my dad as we crossed the street on the way into church.  The next time I saw him , he was laying on the floor dying, his brain crushed when an aneursym exploded in his head. 

Seventeen years ago, my dad donated his corneas, his kidneys, his liver, his skin, and his bone joints to people he'd never know but wanted to help.  He'd already donated multiple gallons of blood in the previous years.  He'd made his wishes known.  He wanted to help people.  That was who he was. 

Tonight I'm sad but I realized that, after seventeen years, I've finally gotten to the point where my gratitude for having had him in my life outweighs my pain.  I think of all the wonderful things he was before I think about losing him. 

I think of him singing.  I think of him carefully working through issues to find what he really believed to be right and ethical.  I think of him working hard to teach kids regardless of how much they might resist.  I think of him working on his "farm" and coming in bone sore and tired, but happy.  I think of him reading to learn as much as he could.  I think of him loving a good dirty joke.  I think of him telling fairy tales in "Pig Latin" and beating out rhythms on the kitchen table to see who could name the tune first. 

I'm grateful for my dad's life and his effect on mine.  He and Mom taught me to value honesty and integrity.  They taught me "stuff" isn't all that important.  They showed me our country and the value of books and music. 

I always felt safe when my dad's hand was on my shoulder. 

The pain of losing him is always there but I'm grateful that the good memories now outweigh it.  I'm grateful that my mom finally has someone to love again and that he's respectful of my dad's memory as Mom is of his wife who's passed on.  Bill, my mom's companion, is a good man too.  I think they would have liked each other.  I'm grateful that Bill and Aaron get along and so glad that Aaron has a "grandpa-like" figure in his life but I so wish he could have known his grandpa.  They would have gotten into lots of trouble together. 

Seventeen years is a long time and it's yesterday.

Don Christensen, thanks for being my daddy.  I love you.