Last night I got the word that my dad is free of his body that has stumbled and hurt and just wore out.  Like taking off clothes that are full of holes, he’s now gone through the gracious opening and is holy.  I feel the freedom of his flight, the spirit grateful for the ride, but ready to soar high and long and flexible and twirling like he never could.

And we are left here behind.  When mom went, I was so surprised how the day just kept on like nothing happened.  I recognize the anti-climatic puzzlement a bit more today.  The sun still shines, floors need cleaning, bills to be paid. 

But life seems so much more precious.  When I see that it is so temporary, the worries and strife just doesn’t seem to be worth my time.  I get ready to clean the floor and love that it is made of trees, thankful for their bones that hold my house.  Water sprinkles the late tomato plants, cat cries for more food than necessary, a lawn mower whines in the distance.  It is a summer day.

Today my dad is home free–ohm free–a frreedom that lasts forever.