My dad never was one to mince words, he said what he thought and he often thought out loud - even if you didn't want to hear it. Many times I would (stupidly) go to my dad for advice and he'd give me a sideway glance, a momentary reprieve from his [tv show/computer/Bible reading/working in the shop/office/garden] and say:
"stop crying, there's no reason to cry"
"you don't need a man"
"you're better than that"
"you're smarter than that"
"don't be such a ditz"
"get over it"
Can you tell, he was really empathetic towards my woes? I know, me too. Yet, I would return (like Proverbs 26:11) and ask his advice on a variety of matters.
Today is January 14 and in 11 days it will be one year since my Papi went to be with his Father in Heaven and it's already more than a year since our last coherent conversation (he deteriorated while I was serving in Haiti and was in a coma by the time I came home to Canada and flew to BC).
Today is one of those days where, even though I know the advice he'd give in this situation, I just want to hear his voice again. To hear him jokingly call me a ditz and remind me that I can do so much more with where God has me right now, instead of pining away after things that God has not yet chosen to give me. As much as his advice was brutally honest, it was something I will never forget and it makes me miss him so much more.
As a little girl, and indeed even as an adult, we had a saying "love you more", which as time went on progressed to each of us shouting "can't go higher, can't go lower, can't go the same ... beat ya!" and we'd always shout the last bit, because clearly, louder = faster :)
Tonight the words have changed: miss you more, can't go higher, can't go lower, can't go the same ... beat ya. I wish you were here to beat me and to laugh about how you're SURE you were faster. But instead, you're in heaven, free from pain and free from the repetitive questions from your dearest, loveliest, only daughter.