Sad story

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Bro. Chris wrote a *touching* poem from a ficticious
incident about truth in a real-world life draining away...

>>  Tell my brother not to cry, Mom.  Tell Daddy to be brave.
>>  And when I go to heaven, Mom, put "Daddy's Girl" on my grave

As the father of two daughters (only - ages 10 and 6 - with whom 
the 10 year old and I just shared birthdays once again this last
September 24) everytime I read these two lines, my eyes just can't
hold back the flood of tears.  I'm glad that I'm here at work at
6am so that co-workers in this sterile office won't catch me 
sobbing out loud.  Tho' I'm glad to share it with my brothers
and sisters in the Lord.

I just can't imagine the loss of one of my two girls.  They are
the Lord's so He's free to take them when it's necessary.  Right
now I'm feeling such strong emotions of grief just in drawing the
pictures of described event of the whole poem in my mind, with a life 
that is just about to cross the Jordan, followed by the grave markers 
epitaph "Daddy's Girl".

My mind goes to the times, when they come into the office and yell
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy!" when they get past the receptionist and mob me 
here in my work cube.  I can always hear and recognize their footsteps 
as they approach.  Like a heard of bull penguins with an attitude.

My mind goes to the times, when after working a couple of real late
nights at work in a row not seeing the girls after a couple of days
(because I stayed at my parents house 30 miles closer to work so that
I can start earlier and stay much, much later) I enter the room where
they are (sometimes Wednesday night bible study at church, sometimes
my in-laws, etc) they'll most always have a look of *joy* when they
finally notice their *Daddy* is in their midst, they come a running,
and cling to my mid section now that I'm back.  "Daaaaddy!  You're
back."

To think that such a feeling of joy (identified to a daughter or son)
would never happen again when a daughter (or son) life slips away 
creates such grief in me that I just can not describe.  "Daddy's Girl"
the marker says.

My mind goes back to the time when people would see me and my daughters
interaction.  How sometimes I act like a big kid enjoying them.  People
see that and say.... "You're such a daddy's girl -or-  You're a daddy's
girl."  Maybe even those comments I treasure more in hearing how either
of the girls are like their dad.  But yet, it can slip away.

My mind now goes to the way the father of the prodigal son.  How his
heart was broken and his spirit grieved when one of his sons left. 
How he went to the end of the lane to look way down the road every day
to see if his son was ever coming back.  The prodigal's father was 
fortunate in that his son did finally come back home.  The tears and the
feast that later ensued showed the fathers joy of the returned son.

With "Daddy's Girl" on the marker... it's a little different.  I guess
I realize that I'm probably the first of the generations of Nally's to
even go this *way* in belief of God.  I come from a long line of Catholics.
And tho' I'm not God, I can't put my relatives in heaven or declare them
out.  They've got to come the same way.  

There might not be a reunion of Grandma, Grandpa, Aunts, Uncles, and 
Daddy's Girl in heaven.  Tho it won't be lonely event on the other
side, I can only imagine the joy I'd feel in my journey to reunite with
"Daddy's Girl."  The *finality* of it on this side, the everlasting 
reunion on the other.  

Daughter's Dad, 

Bro. Tyler