The call came late in the evening on March 18, 2018. “Your Dad doesn’t have much longer. You had better come, before it’s too late.”

Hanging up the phone, I knew it was already too late. Too late to hold his hand, too late to hug his neck, too late to say I love you, too late to say good-bye.

It’s too late to sit at the kitchen table and drink a cup of coffee with Dad, while he recalled some long-lost adventure from his youth.

It’s too late for me to answer the casual questions he asks me each time I go out to visit: “Is Ron in the hay field?” “How are the kids?” “Did you plant a garden this year?”

It’s too late to hear Dad chuckle at something one of us would say. Dad had a great sense of humor, and I appreciated every smile, every raised eyebrow and the nod of agreement that I shared with him.

It’s too late to hear him call out to me and Mom to “be careless” as we walk out the door to go on an occasional errand. And then he would say that was what the ‘ole man down the road used to tell him, and I would smile realizing that he was the ‘ole man down the road now.

It’s too late to… It’s just too late.

That’s the sad part of life; saying good-bye and never having another chance to do the day-to-day, unappreciated, seemingly unimportant relational interacting with each other. The little things that we take for granted or the things that go unnoticed, until it’s no longer there.

There’s no way to prepare for it; there’s no way we know what we’ll miss about a person. After someone is gone, it’s too late. It’s too late for me and Dad to share any more memories together. It’s too late; the time we had together has ended.

Yes, it’s so true; for now our time together has ended and it’s too late to make new memories. However, I know the Creator of time-God-and nothing is ever too late for Him.

It’s never too late for God to mend my broken heart. It’s never too late for God to fill me with His peace that surpasses all understanding. It’s never too late for me to rest upon the hope that has been given.

Death isn’t the end; not for Christians. If you trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, you are promised eternal life.

“O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?”
…Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory
through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
1 Corinthians 15:55-57

When I was 21 years old, I made the decision to know God and to accept His provision for eternal life. Dad also made that decision.

Although our time runs out this side of life, it’s never too late for Christians.

Jesus has prepared a place for us who choose Him as our Lord. When a Christian’s life is over here on earth, our spirits are transported to that place that Jesus has prepared. (John 16)

Dad and I will never meet again on this side of glory, but one day we will both be together, kneeling at the feet of Christ; worshiping the Father for His goodness and mercy; living eternally with the One who created us all. In Heaven, it’s never too late.

The Path

My Dad was strong and faithful, loyal and true.
The path he walked was followed by few.
He shared his path with his loving wife,
Together they walked 63 years of life.

Upon this path I’ve been allowed to track,
All the memories he’d share from way, way back.
On solid ground he walked from day-to-day,
Never straying from the path that before him lay.

He was as strong as a bull and as harmless as a bunny,
But the best thing about him; he was so darn funny.
There was never a time he didn’t make me laugh.
And I enjoyed each moment we spent on his path.

In recent years noticing his path growing dim,
I knew like all good things; it would come to an end.
He continued his walk through this world unknown,
Until he was guided to his heavenly home.

As I looked back upon the path he had walked,
I was grateful for each and every shared talk.
When my path ends, I’ll see him on Heaven’s bright shore
And we’ll meet once again for evermore.

–cindraenloe