A Full Heart

As I rolled out of bed this morning, the sound of "Blessings" coming from my ipod speaker alarm, my heart is heavy but filled with gratefulness. I meant to write this post yesterday, but the heart-heaviness was too great to get anything that made any sense out of it. So here I am today, trying to put into words the feelings that the events of the past month have brought.

You see, my daddy died last Friday. Yesterday would have been his 80th birthday. How's that for reason for a full heart?

There is so much in this experience to be thankful to God for. I'm thankful that my father died with dignity, at home, just as he wished. I am thankful my mother and I were there with him as he took his last breath on earth. I am thankful we were able to say goodbye, and that he could say his goodbyes to us in those last few moments as well. I'm thankful for the strength of my mother and the example of devotion and love she showed in the way she cared for him in the last days (and years) of his life. Most of all, I am thankful for the gift of a father who loved me so tremendously, loved my mother so passionately, and loved his God most of all.

Again and again over the past week, I have heard people say, "He was a good man." There are so very right. Anyone who knew my dad knew his kindness, his compassion, his humility, his sense of humor, his steadiness, his quiet, unassuming strength of spirit, and his love for God and His Word. People remember his gift for working with his hands, building things and leaving a tangible legacy that will last generations. I, of course, saw all that and much, much more. I and my children are blessed with a spiritual and familial legacy which is rare and wonderful. I had the privilege of calling him Dad, something only two other people have been able to do. My children have been blessed to have the best grandpa anyone can ask for and have lost one of their best friends, biggest cheerleaders, and greatest mentors.

I am comforted and somewhat awed when I think of my sister and my little girl, and how they must have welcomed him home as he crossed into heaven and joined them there. It makes me smile to think how joyful they must have been to be reunited with one another. And it eases the pain of missing him just a tiny bit.

On Wednesday, we held a memorial service and laid my father's earthy body to rest in our family cemetery right here on our land. He is buried very near to our Olivia Hope. He was buried in an old-fashioned pine casket made from trees from his own land and sawed and built by the hands of his sons and grandsons. He had specific wishes about how the day should go, and we fulfilled every one of them. The hand built pine coffin was his idea. He chose the hymns for the service. He wanted it all to happen in one day, and he didn't want a lot of fanfare or long, drawn out soliloquys. He wanted things simple, understated, and real.

Which is exactly how he lived his life.

Yes, my heart is indeed very full. Full of gratitude, full of love, full of awe for the goodness of God in giving me the immeasurable gift of calling Marvin Burnham my Daddy.