It's been a long five years.
It's funny how the busy-ness of life makes it easy to forget things. Yesterday marked five years since my daddy died, and I honestly forgot all about it. Leading up to yesterday, I knew the day was approaching and I wondered how I would feel or what I would want to write or what I would do. But yesterday was so busy, the date just slipped my mind.
Every year, I anticipate September 21. It's a special day - a day of remembering, a day of gratitude, a day of looking back and looking forward. I look forward to it because in some weird way (which you probably won't understand until one of your parents passes away), remembering the day he died is a way to stay close to him. It sounds so silly to even write that out, but it's just the truth. Thinking about those last days means thinking about the last time I talked to my dad.
I am not going to go into the sappy details about my last conversation with him because that memory is one I cherish. I didn't know it was the last time I'd ever speak to him, which makes it all the more special. Jesus knew what I needed to say and do, and He made sure I got it all out before it was too late. :)
Five years ago, I was absolutely reliant on Jesus to get me through. Five years later, I still am. And that's just a very good place for me to be.