Oh , San Diego...

Oh, San Diego... land of somewhat less pleasant customer service, somewhat higher prices and difficult to find coffee shops... the place where I grew up and so the scene of both my best and worst memories. 

I'm here to clean out my dad's apartment. 

Sure feels like I've been here before.

My grandparents raised me, and though my dad technically lived with us from when I was about 11 on, we didn't have any relationship, so to speak. So, when my grandmother died in 2000, about 3 years after my grandfather, I had to clean out their house, and find somewhere to deposit my dad. That took days. Days and dumpsters. Throwing away the detritus of decades... so many things I probably would have kept if I could have, but am probably better off not having done so. 

We gathered up my dad's personal things and took the furniture that was still suitable and moved him a mile or two away. He's been in an apartment since, living with the plates, the couch and tables, the glasses and flatware of my youth. How odd is it to walk into this apartment having forgotten all we put in there and see: The kitchen table I ate on growing up. My grandfathers la-z-boy. The coffee table, lamps, end tables from my living room- all of it the furnishings of a home, a life that ceased to be almost a decade ago. 

Talk about the Green Mile... 

He's just been killing time. Or maybe I should say, it's been killing him. Not sure what he's been eating- there's food in the cupboard older than my children. Not sure what he's been doing either- 3 TVs in the apartment and none of them work- not sure I saw a working clock in the place. Just a lot of broken watches... 

They're testing him right now trying to figure out the dementia and lostness he's been displaying over the last few weeks. Pretty sure they just need to look at this apartment. 

I don't know where God's been in my Dad's life. Probably, along with the rest of us, waiting at arm's length. 

But I do know this: God worked in getting me here- I was ticketed to fly ridiculously late at night, and basically walked onto great aisle seats on two planes I wasn't ticketed on to get here. I don't travel that smoothly when I'm going according to itinerary, much less just showing up at the airport hoping to get where I'm going. Nice upgrade on the car rental, sunshine... not all of it for me, of course, but all of it appreciated. All of it contributing to being in a state where I can think: What can I do for, say to, be for my dad on this brief trip? How can I say goodbye in a way that will matter, since nothing else in our relationship these last 40 years seems to have? 

Comments

[robbymac]

Bob, I am praying for you today. I don't have the words to say something profound or insightful here on your blog, but I grieve for you and will pray.

[Bill Streger]

I don't have any words that are sufficient and don't sound trite. I'll spare you the slogan or bumper sticker. Know that I am praying.

[Robin]

This is huge Bob - as Bill said, many of the things that I have in my mind sound trite...I'm praying and supporting you in heart!

Robin

[David Fitch]

Bob,
God bless you as you minister the presense of Jesus to your Dad amidst all this pain...