The Last Forever

Tomorrow will be the first month of my life that I'll start without him. September will come, and Papa won't be here. I won't get to call him and tell him about the new year starting at work, how cute my little kiddos are or what cool class I'm enrolled in for the semester. I won't get to chat with him about the Kansas heat, or his morning mass coffee crew. I won't open a birthday card signed with his sweet message or hear about his travel plans for spring. He will never get to meet the man of my dreams and hug me tight on my wedding day. I'll never get to hear him tell his favorite stories from our adventure together in Europe, or hear his recollection of my favorite songs to sing when I was a kid. September is here and I'm sad because I miss him. 

In June, Papa told us his time with us was short. He had been diagnosed with a devastating cancer that was not going to go away. The doctor gave him 1 to 4 months to live. My eyes unleashed tears like a flood. They rolled down my checks and formed puddles in the creases of my neck. The strongest man I know, sat at our dining room table that day waving his white flag. He wouldn't fight the beast, or try weak attempts at beating it. He knew his life in this world was coming to an end. An inspiration in all ways, Papa did not fail me now. It seems so brave when someone chooses to fight yet here, in this moment, the bravest thing I could ever know came in the surrender. 

Papa, see he knew, he knew that he couldn't control illness, or stop cancer from destroying his body. And he chose to let it be. He chose to let that mean disease have his body. But, through it all he kept his golden heart.  

The day I found out Papa was dying, was literally one of the worst days of my life, that day was beat by the day I hugged him good bye when I knew he'd never be back to see us in California. 

And then in July, I journeyed to Kansas for one of my favorite weekends of my life. Papa was barely getting around at this point. He couldn't eat. He slept a lot. But he also was so alive and so full of love. That weekend we went through some of his most treasured possessions, explored old photos and swapped stories of life, loss, and love. I asked him his best advice for being married, we talked about faith, and he shared with us his favorite trips and the best places he'd been to in the world... all 45 states and 56 countries. I sat on the edge of my seat the whole time. Like a sponge, I was eager to absorb whatever I could. I listened more intently, asked more genuinely, and cared more fully. I knew that weekend would be the last one I got with Papa and I did not want to leave any stone unturned. I was fully present.  That weekend I treasured everything big, small, or somewhere in between. 

And I'll never forget it. 

I hugged the strongest man I knew that last day I had with him so tightly. I did not want to let go. On the way back to the airport that afternoon, with tears in my eyes, I found the courage to smile. I had just lived a weekend I would always remember. I clung tight to my Papa's witty words, his detailed instructions, and the way he'd seen each of our strengths and given us jobs to do even upon his death. My heart was filled with peace. I had spent a weekend soaking up the last forever I had with my Papa.  And I could not have been more thankful. 

Papa taught me countless things. And in so many ways, he made me the girl I am now. But I'll treasure most those three days I got to just BE with him. I remember thinking at some point in the midst of that amazing weekend that felt like heaven on earth, how different my life would  be if I lived every day like I did that weekend. I wonder what life could be like if I loved like that, if I cared so deeply, if I treasured

everyone and every thing each person in my life had to offer. What a beautiful life that would be? 

In that moment of surrender, I saw in my papa so much courage. He took the worst case scenario on his shoulders and kept journeying on. Even to his death, my Papa invested in the other. And I have to believe he got it. He found the secret to a full life. A full life is lived with full love. It does not quit when something better comes along, or run with fear in the face of destruction. Full love is not selfish or self seeking, but in all things it says tell me more, show me more, let me care more about you. That's how my Papa lived, every single day of his life. Every single day. 

I shared one of my most amazing weekends with my papa. I truly believe I got a glimpse of heaven there in those moments, when we both looked each other in the eye and knew, death would win for a moment, but God wins forever.  Papa is knowing a love beyond anything this world can give him. And while I'm sad for me, I'm overjoyed for him. He gets what I only just tasted, for always. During our time together I discovered how to live like the most amazing person was dying, because he was. And I want to love more like that every day. I want more moments of heaven on earth, more conversations that matter, and more people that I love. Because at the end of my life I want to be like my papa, not afraid of death, but excited for the greater glory it brings. 

The day my papa told us about his diagnosis he told us this, "I've lived a good life and have done all I set out to do."  I do not know if Papa knows how beautiful what he set out to do was, but I'm taking that with me into September.