At 18:10 GMT today, my Dad slipped quietly into eternity.
Although I do not bear his name, I call him “Dad”. He is not my natural father, but he has been there for my brother and I for more than three decades. It was only last year that I realized that most of my sense of humor comes from him. Such are the echoes in history that we leave behind.
When last I saw him, on Tuesday evening, he was lucid, but unable to speak or write. The following day, as I headed homeward, he finally got his voice back.
It seems that God granted him one last day of clarity to get things right. During that day, he spoke at length with my Mum. More important of all, she prayed with him, and he accepted salvation. And that changes everything.
He was then transferred to the Hospice Word, where he spent the next two days under sedation; his light fading until it finally went out.
There are many things about him I will never know; many questions that will not be answered this side of Heaven. But I can now accept as a fact that I will see him there.
And if I know him, he’ll probably be sporting a cheery grin, wearing a clown suit, and eating a generous portion of fish and chips.