January 2nd, 2009
One year ago today, I put my favorite photo of us in his hand, told him I loved him, and then asked God for forgiveness. A few days before I had made the most important decision of my life, and I vowed to sit there with him until the end. Three hours after his life support was removed, my dad’s body finally gave up on him. At the age of 25, I sat alone in the hospital with my dead father.
I kissed his forehead and began to gather my stuff. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something through the window. Like something out of a movie, a giant beam of light had broken through the gloomy overcast and landed on the roof of the hospital. It was one of the most beautiful and majestic sites I had ever seen.
I quickly turned back to my father, threw up my arms and said, “Really?!?! Really? That’s what happens when you die? A giant beam of light breaks through the clouds as it takes you to heaven? You have got to be kidding me.”
I couldn’t help but smile in awe knowing it was probably just my dad having one last laugh with me. I took it as a sign that we had done the right thing, and that he’d continue to be watching over us, as he always had.
