Irony Becomes Her

One year

My dad died a year ago today.

I don't have much to say about it that I haven't already said. I miss him. I still have sharp pangs of disbelief that he's really gone.

And more than ever before I'm reflecting on what "Moses the man of God" says in Psalm 90: "All our days pass away under your wrath; we finish our years with a moan. The length of our days is seventy years -- or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away."

To me it seems like the more wrath we feel under, the less the days seem to "quickly pass" -- but looking back, I guess they do. This year has comprised some of the highest and most of the lowest points of my life, but they do all jumble together in retrospect so that I really wonder where the 365 days have gone. Thank God that they do quickly pass.

Any time now, Dad. We'll all fly away.

posted by Lynn @ 6:41 AM