My Dad is a big Garrison Keillor fan. He listens to the Writer’s Almanac almost every day, and when a poem touches him in a father-daughter sort of way, he sends it to me. It doesn’t happen very often–maybe every few months–but I always appreciate it.
This morning I saw this email in my in-box:
Subject: Dad has sent you an entry from The Writer’s Almanac
Dad also sent this message:
Heard this early this morning and thought of you. Then I thought of K—- [my daughter].
The poem was “Prayer for Our Daughters,” by Mark Jarman. I’m not going to reproduce it here, but please read it. The first verse felt like a hug across cyberspace.
* * * * * * * * * *
I don’t know how to end this post.
That poem was the last hug I got from my father.
An hour or so later he had a heart attack, or an aneurysm, or a stroke–something sudden that took him in his sleep, after he had lain down to rest because he didn’t feel well.
I have more to write about how loved I feel today. About how God put me in the right place at the right time, so I could be there for my dad’s wife, meet her at the house, drive her to the hospital, hold her while the doctor told us the horrible news. But for now, I want to focus on my dad, and how much he loved me, and showed me, by sending me this hug today.