On that day he died while I held his hand.

At 87 and after battling pneumonia, my dad’s time on this earth had reached its end. Fortunately I was able to spend the better part of the last 72-hours of his life by his side. My family was there with him as well. Our family gathering at our dad’s bedside was a beautiful expression of love and concern for a man who loved us so much.

My dad’s passing was an emotional experience for me but also one for which I am profoundly grateful. My dad’s death touched and moved me deeply. He was always there for me and offered me unconditional love throughout my life. Even in his death he gave me something. For in witnessing his passing, I experienced the presence of God as my dad took his final breaths. I was present when my children were born and the same reverence and awe-inspiring feelings accompanied my dad’s death, as did my daughters’ births. The miracle of birth and of death is similar, while the emotional reactions we experience to each of these events are typically polar opposites.

As he lay dying, I looked into my dad’s eyes and spoke words of comfort to him that came from the core of my heart. I wanted him to know how much I loved him, how grateful I was for him and that I wanted him to come home to God when God was ready for him. As the moments passed by, I became transfixed in his gaze and for a while I could not tell where my dad ended and I began. When my dad passed from this life to join our Heavenly Father – I was there with him, albeit for a brief moment in time. My dad entered the space between life and death as I held his hand and then he crossed over into eternity. God’s hand replaced mine in holding my dad and I felt supreme comfort in this. Perhaps for the briefest moment we both held him. The knowing of peace that is now the reality for my dad and awaits all of us provides such comfort and solace to me. Even though my heart aches at the loss of my daddy, I am closer to God and my dad is at one with him. For those who may be grieving now or who will at some point, there is a better place that awaits our loved ones and us. I know this like I know that force of gravity that holds us. The peace of God transcends all understanding.

My dad was a painter, a writer, and a bit of a practical joker while he was here on earth. He taught my sisters and me how to draw among many other things. One of the images we learned to draw was the ubiquitous “Kilroy was here.” The image of a man peering over a fence was popularized in World War II and my father was a veteran of that war, serving in the Navy.

The morning after my dad died, I went to go get coffee in the hotel I was staying in but the elevator was not working that particular morning. None of the three elevator cars would work and the one that I had called was stuck on the floor below – stopping just short of my 8th floor. Mind you this is a modern hotel and I have stayed there often and never have I had an issue with its elevators. This morning, each time I would press the down button the stuck car would chime in response. Finally I decided to go up in order to go down. I pressed the up-button thinking I would summon another elevator car and simply go up to the 9th floor and then return. When I pressed the up button my previously stuck car- sprang to life and then opened – heading up to the top floor – Number 9. The way the elevator was acting made me concerned that I might get stuck so once it opened on floor 9, I decided just to walk down the fire escape stairs to the lobby for my coffee. As I started down the stairs – there in the middle of the pristine stairwell was ”Kilroy was here” graffiti. There was no other graffiti on any of the stairways or hallway. Once I saw this image that was positioned right at eye level as I descended the stairs, I smiled and laughed out loud at this, crying happy tears. The night before I felt like I had learned how to transcend the emotional pain of life’s ultimate lesson – that life itself ends. Seeing the Kilroy image the next morning was like receiving an “attaboy” from my dad reminding me to enjoy this life and not take it too seriously.

Seeing the image after being guided to the stairs made me think of the book When God Winks: How the Power of Coincidence Guides Your Life by Squire Rushnell, a great book that I recommend. The book describes how God can communicate with us and the author uses many stories with wonderful coincidences to get his point across. In my case, God winked at me the morning after my father died through a malfunctioning elevator that only would go up and only one floor. This same elevator worries me enough to then walk down the 9-flights of stairs only to discover a personal symbol representing my now dead father located at my eye level in the middle of a superbly clean stairwell. The image reaffirmed that while my dad had joined our Heavenly Father, we are always with Him and that indeed “All is Well.”

Please let me know when God winks at you.

On this Father’s day I feel like Simba in Disney’s Lion King and will be looking at the night sky for guidance.