Article July 2, 2001 Issue

DEAR DAD

Jewel

I'm driving on my way home, listening to a collection of our favorite Stan Kenton jazz tunes that you and I recorded on tape together one afternoon. Hearing them still gives me a lump in my throat. I wonder whether I'll ever see you again. I have really missed you since you passed away four years ago.

I need some comfort, and I'm asking God for help. And the answer that is coming is this: "How much love do you feel when you see a loved one for the first time in a year? How about if you multiply that love by 40 years? 50? That is only an infinitesimal amount of the love that God feels for His children." How much joy this thought brings me. Just trying to feel a century's worth of love makes my heart feel light. Trying to imagine how much God loves you, Dad, is a huge comfort to me.

And even though you are there and I am here, we are both taking our individual daily steps toward getting to know God better. I like it that we are still able to do something together. Feeling closer to God. Feeling God's love for each of us.