Just Let Me Go

Ben —  January 27, 2011 — 20 Comments

I meant to post something like this around the 1 year anniversary of my grandfather’s passing, but thankfully I was too busy enjoying family to remember. If you’ve clicked on the first link, you’ll notice the “Super Seven.” Well, I’ve set all of the previous “Super Seven’s” to private on this blog, just because I wanted to refocus my attempts in writing instead of regurgitate what I read on the intarwebbernets. So if you got a feed or an email from a post that is a year old I apologize, but I do not regret it.

As I was tucking Jack in to bed (we have a nightly routine), I kissed him on the forehead and started getting up to walk out. He whimpered, and said

“No daddy, sit”

and pointed to the ground so I could sit and watch him fall asleep. I do this sometimes.

I can’t even begin to explain the rush of emotions I felt. I remembered last Christmas when we flew to Phoenix. I remembered “Apo” being able to see his grandson Jackson, and I remembered the last sentence that was said before he took his final breath…

…So I wrote about it.

I haven’t even seen you yet, and you’re in my dreams. The thought that a little piece of your mother and I will soon be running around is amazing. I want to see you, yet you hold me captive in dream land. Just let me go.

How I love it when I say good night to you after I tuck you in, but then you tug my shirt, and the small soft whimper you release as I am about to get up from your bedside pains me. I’m not going far, and when you wake up I am going to see you before I go to work. Just let me go.

I pull up in my car to pick you up for lunch. You told me about art, music, toys, and then asked me for a donut. I loved listening to your stories, but now you must get back to class. I know you don’t want to, your face says it all. You’re going to learn how to take on the world, and you’ll learn from the best. Just let me go.

I go to check the mail as you’re just about to pull up to the driveway. I sift through the junk, and see your first college tuition summary. I know that you were not able to get a full scholarship, but you will find a way to be able to pay for the courses you need. You are smart and resourceful, you always find a way. Just let me go.

You’re about to start a brand new life with the one you love, you spent a ton of time getting ready for this big day. As I hug you and finish praying, your grasp becomes more firm. Do not fear the mistakes you will make, they will come but you will always have Him to guide you. Just let me go.

I’m laying down, my body’s a bit cold but seeing my youngest grandson brought me so much warmth. Oh, I really do hate the ceiling, all I can do is stare at it. I know you are there, I can hear the sobs and the occasional hand grab. I can smell the bouquets of flowers all around, and hear the machines beeping, but not over your strumming of the Ukelele, keep strumming. It’s about time, really. I know where I am going, and I know I will see you there too. All of this here on earth, is nothing compared to where I am going. Just le…

“Dad?

Dad?

We’re all here now, you can go home.

Dad?

Your Father is waiting. You can go home now.”

…At last.

I miss you Apo, and can’t wait to see you again.

And Now We Are Home
You Can't Do It.

20 responses to Just Let Me Go

  1. Wow…what a perspective….didn’t realize how much I miss Dad. Seems like yesterday. Watching Dad (Apo) enter God’s presence peacefully was his gift to us. Thank you, son,….for being there with Jackson so he could see his Great Grandpa. I look forward to the time we will all be with him – how awesome! (tears of joy….sniff)

  2. JUST talked about him a couple days ago with both girls. His song came on the radio, we all smiled, remembered those last few days. Funny, I’ve been finding myself eating a lot more pie a lot later in the evening…keeping his legacy alive 🙂

    Thanks for this, love you little brother.

  3. Beautiful! Simply beautiful. I didn’t know Apo, but somehow you managed to make me miss him.

  4. Whoa. That was beautiful.
    Thank you.

  5. Ben, I really appreciate you sharing that with us. Thank you!

  6. Wow, Ben. I’m speechless and teary-eyed. That was beautiful.

  7. Beautiful words full of heart. Nice.

  8. Beautiful. Thanks for sharing Ben.

  9. Over the years you have watched so intently and now you are sharing those moments so clearly….I am so moved and touched by your gift. Your little guy will have the next set of memories to share… we are so blessed!

  10. >>Your Father is waiting. You can go home now.

    Ben….

    wow. Simply, wow. I will gladly confess that I am sitting here with welled-up eyes as I type this. That was incredibly beautiful and powerful.

    Thank you for sharing this, brother. Seriously. Thank you. God is a good God, isn’t He?

    • He is. I’m not going to lie either, the whole process of thinking about this, as well as while I was writing I had to take a few breaths and compose myself. Thank you for reading.

Leave a Reply