- There is a finality that it has, at least on earth, on this side of heaven. A certain abruptness that hits hard, no matter how old the person is. No matter how many times it seemed like he was going, and yet survived.
One week after Father’s day, on Sunday morning, I lost my Dad. I got in in time to see him alive. Just in time. But it was like arriving at 11.01 for the 10.59 train. Seeing it pulling away, and standing powerlessly. Seeing all the glory of an express train, with no possibility of touching it, being on it, experiencing it.