My dad was full of life. I realize that people tend to say that when loved ones pass away, but it was especially true of my papi. Whether he was grumpy, happy, nervous, or giddy, you knew it because you could feel it. He had this aura around him that could change your mood in an instant, usually for the better (unless he was driving you insane). And while he definitely still exists, and is definitely still around, I will miss being able to talk to him for hours on end about anything that was bothering me. My dad and I are two peas in a pod, made from the same mold. He knew what I was thinking before I could articulate it, and he always knew what to say. And if you knew my dad, you know he would say it whether you wanted to hear it or not. He kicked my butt back on track numerous times, and told me what I needed to know whether I was ready or not. It wasn't always rosy, and we both have faults, but he always knew what to do. He could fix ANYTHING with his tools, and (usually) duct tape.
But the thing I will remember most about my dad is love. Simple, unconditional love. There was a time in my life when I was a hot mess. Seriously, a hot. mess. I drank a lot. I did crazy things. I broke my parents' hearts. I would disappear for days/weeks and not talk to my family. But eventually, I would come home to them. My dad would look like he was ready to drop kick me, but he always took me back with love. He always made sure that I knew, no matter what, that I was loved and that they were ready for me when I was. My parents never wrote me off, and never gave up. They just loved me the best way they could, and helped me remember my worth.
I think that, at times, my dad had a hard time recognizing his worth as a person, father, and child of God. He always thought he could do better, always apologized for not being this or that. He always strove to do his best for us, and always worked so hard to make sure we were taken care of. A couple of weeks ago, we were alone in his hospital room. Out of the blue he said, "I hope I've done good for you, I don't feel like I've done well for you lately." It broke my heart. I told him how the most important things in life are not material. How he gave my brother and I the most precious gifts when he taught us to live with grace, love and humor. He taught us to take care of ourselves and other people. He taught us to not take things too seriously, but to pay attention when needed. He taught us strength. He taught us how to love the Lord in our own way. And, the last six months or so especially, he taught me how to get through trials gracefully. He never complained in the hospital. Not once. He would never vocalize how he hated it, he would never say that he hated that he couldn't walk, he wouldn't utter a word about how hard it was to have nurses intruding all the time. In the ICU, when he was going through so much with multiple intrusive tests and daily dialysis, he would just say "Okay" when a nurse or doctor would tell us something else had to be done. They would tell him they were sorry, and he would say it was ok. I can't imagine the strength it took to take what he went through so gracefully. And finally, when his body could take no more, he said "Okay" for the last time.
Dad never thought he touched many lives. He never thought he really had an impact. In the week after his death, and especially during the viewing and funeral, hundreds of people came out of the woodwork to tell me about my dad. To tell me about the special moments, to tell me what influence he had on them and their lives. To tell me how much they loved him, to tell me stories of moments where he was a great man when he thought no one was looking. I found out during this time that when my dad was manager of a finance store, he would encounter older people who were attempting to get loans to pay for their medications. When he could no longer lend them money officially through the company, he would give them money out of his pocket to pay for their medications so they wouldn't have to go without. Mom only knew about some of these times, and I'm convinced that there were many more he did not tell her about. There were hundreds of moments in my dad's lifetime where he did things like this, moments where he would help someone just because. And he never understood the impact of these actions, never understood how many people loved him and were better people because of him and his guidance.
I guess the moral of his story is that we should never wait to tell someone what an impact they've had on our lives. Don't to tell someone that you appreciate them. Don't wait to express your love and gratitude to someone who has impacted your life. I'd rather be known as a mushy gushy girl than risk having someone think they are not worth anything because I never told them what they meant to me.
Most of all, don't ever forget that you matter to our Heavenly Father. Even if no one else in your life ever tells you that you matter to them, you must remember that you matter to Him. It's been said many, many times before, but the worth of souls is great in the eyes of God. I think I've quoted this before, but I adore this talk by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf. It is called "You Matter to Him". He goes into more detail about our Heavenly Father's love for us, and how we must never forget. In this talk is a section I love love love. He says:
"[N]o matter where you live, no matter how humble your circumstances, how meager your employment, how limited your abilities, how ordinary your appearance, or how little your calling in the Church may appear to you, you are not invisible to your Heavenly Father. He loves you. He knows your humble heart and your acts of love and kindness. Together, they form a lasting testimony of your fidelity and faith....
God sees you not only as a mortal being on a small planet who lives for a brief season—He sees you as His child. He sees you as the being you are capable and designed to become. He wants you to know that you matter to Him."
(Read the full message here.)
