Some of you may not know, but my dad passed away on September 2, 2012. He was three days away from his 67th birthday. I remember that day clearly. My cousin Delores called to tell me my dad was in the hospital. The pain and urgency in her voice were very telling of his condition, and it’s still etched at the center of my mind. The four hour drive from Burleson to San Antonio was a powerful time of pondering, preparation and prayer. It was actually a peaceful time, which was completely from the Lord because my brothers and I had some hard decisions to make.
I give you that background to tell you what happened to me a couple days ago on my way into work. The radio was on and I really wasn’t listening. It was more of background noise to block other sounds so I could concentrate on prayer and in hearing the Lord’s voice. (Sounds super spiritual, but really, I don’t hear His voice as often as I’d like). Well, the DJ went into reading a commercial for one of their sponsors. Toward the end of the reading he ad lib’s by saying, “Get your kids a cell phone. They need to hear your voice every once in a while.” That was a tough moment for me. I was overwhelmed with emotion. See, my dad was practically homeless. I never knew where he was, except for his phone calls. Every month he had a different pay-as-you-go cell phone. I never knew his cell number except that it started with “210.” So, when my phone rang and it was a 210 number it was usually him. He called on every holiday and on our family’s birthdays. Especially his own birthday, since I didn’t know how to get a hold of him. As I pondered all that it hit me that I wouldn’t hear my dad’s voice again.
On the drive in I ran the last conversation we had in my head. He said, “Mijo, I’m so proud of you and my mija, Paige. You have the best sons in the world. I can’t wait to see them again so they can play their guitars for me. Maybe we can learn a song together and I’ll sing.” (Whew!)
As the holidays approach I have to work through the reality that my dad won’t be calling me on Christmas Day to thank God for us. He won’t call me on New Year’s Day to wish me a great year ahead. He won’t be telling me all the Lord is doing in his life. I won’t hear the excitement in his voice when he speaks of my sons and how he loves that they are all musically talented. (He always took the credit for their talent). He won’t tell me how he wants to visit my family and those of my brothers before he goes to the Lord.
I won’t hear him say, “Mijo, I love you.”
Call your kids. “They need to hear your voice every once in a while.”