Things that moved me

Today is Father's Day. I'm blessed to have a truly wonderful dad. He's always been loving, supportive, hard-working... he's taught me so much about life and love and sacrifice. And for all those things he really hasn't had to say a word. His actions say everything.

So today I was so glad to spend time with him doing stuff like going on a motorcycle ride, getting ice cream, getting dinner and going to a concert in the park.

But throughout the day I kept watching other people. (People watching is one of the most fascinating things ever.) Sometimes I get sad over the state of humanity. But days like today I see people and how they love and how they interact, and it moves me.

One thing that was different today than all other Father's Days I have experienced so far is that this is the first Father's Day in which neither of my parents have fathers. That definitely changed the dynamic of the day a bit. So I rode with my dad (on the motorcycle, of course) to the cemetery today where we met my mom and put some flowers on Grandpa and Granda's graves. We also walked around and remembered some of my other family that is buried there.

I was thinking about how bittersweet it must be for my parents - especially my mom, for whom the loss is so fresh - she no longer has a father to go over and celebrate with, but she can celebrate the wonderful relationship she had with her dad and rejoice over all the years they had together.

As Papa and I were walking back from Grandpa to Granda's grave I saw something that broke my heart. A dad was spending his Father's Day at the grave of his son, who was only 28 when he died. I wondered what he was thinking and feeling. I grieved for him and my heart swelled with love, because I could see how much that man loved his son. As a daughter, although I dread the day and hope it's far, far away, I expect to outlive my parents. I hope that my parents never have to visit my grave.

I saw other things today, though, that made me unbelievably happy: watching a dad dancing away with his young daughter at the concert - bopping around together, spinning her, laughing with her; watching an elderly couple dance together on a boat out on the lake; people from a group home living life and loving the music, and a woman who joined in with their fun and dancing - someone who was so sweet and was not put off by their "differences" but treated them as equals.

I took in all these things and it gave me a renewed hope in humanity. And it encouraged me to live my life to the fullest - full of love and laughter - and to cherish the time I have with everyone who is in my life. I learned today that the simplest day to day moments can be the source of our greatest joy and the makings of my best memories.

What would people say

Much of my time last week centered around Granda's calling hours and funeral. Planning, preparing, making sure everything got done and people got where they needed to be. And finally came the time that we sat down and focused on Granda. Hundreds of people came to pay their respects - people from all walks of life. Staff of the McDonalds my grandparents frequented, men who worked for Granda when they were teenagers, people who knew him from the farm, from church, from all over. Every single person shared about what a great man Granda was. What a hard worker. How respected.

At the funeral, with the stories people told and what we knew about Granda, there was no doubt that he loved Jesus more than anything and wanted everyone he knew to know Him as well.

It made me think about my own life. I know Granda had 87 years to leave a legacy, but what would people say about me if I died? (This is rhetoricl, btw.) Would it be surface stuff - she was also so happy and chatty! Or would it be deeper - she really loved people and invested in them! And would people talk about my love for God and how I had a passion for sharing about him?

I don't know. I really don't. And my focus on life and death and the ever-after this week has really made me think about the legacy that I will leave someday.
And I'd like it to be like the legacy Granda left.