Memories of Dad: Part VII

Today marks three months since the Celebration of Life for my father. My heart hurts. I often think of my father and an overwhelming sadness envelopes me. It can't be true, yet it is. The good, the bad, and the ugly of it. It's undeniable. The thing that has started to bother me more and more, recently, is that my memories already seem to be fading. How can memories of a man I was around for forty-one years already be fading? I don't want to lose the memories. Even if it...sometimes...often...always...hurts to remember. My father was a man worth remembering. Not just my father, but your father as well. And your mother. Your brother. Your sister. Your best friend. Your son. Your daughter. Your neighbor down the street. Your high school English teacher. You get the idea. Every life is worth remembering, honoring, commemorating. 

My dad has a legacy in me, in my brother, in his grandchildren, in his cousin, in his friend, in a young man or two or four, and in so many countless others. Anyone that has lived has left a legacy. The thing is that the legacy left behind may not always be the heartwarming, cozy, loving kind. I am thankful that I am blessed with the cozy, loving kind of legacy from my father. He was an honorable man that lived a life full of integrity. A life marked by devotion to God, to my mother, to my brother and me, to his grandchildren, and to many others. He has left a legacy full of moments touched by His Creator and Savior, and though the memories "feel" as if they are fading, I still have my legacy and the legacy left by my father in so many others to look on and remember...