Turn, Turn, Turn

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)

There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)

And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

- The Byrds (adapted from the Book of Ecclesiastes 3)

My dad loved that song. I heard him play it over and over again ever since we heard it in Forrest Gump. It was the final ringtone on his phone. And oddly enough, it was the best way to describe his untimely demise. There is a season, and reason, for everything.

A time to be born, a time to die...

One of the things that brought comfort to my family, especially my mom, was the idea that my dad's time was up. He might have passed at a younger age, but God has ordained the number of his days even before he was born (Psalm 139:16). It was time for him to go even if it was a surprise for us. Daddy was notoriously on time, he absolutely hated tardiness. I guess even on his death, he was still on time. I take comfort in knowing that God's hand is sovereign, even in the seemingly painful and tragic situations we find ourselves in. 

A time to plant, a time to reap...

It is said that a man reaps what he sows (Galatians 6:7). My father was not a perfect man. Patience was definitely not his virtue and he had allowed the sun to go down while he was very angry more than a dozen times. But for all his flaws and weaknesses, he did get one thing right: he knew how to treat people. He was a man who always wanted to treat people right. All throughout our two week ordeal, we've seen people from every part of his life (his relatives, his co-workers, his friends, his churchmates etc) share their personal experiences with my dad: how he taught his brother math (because he was really good at it); or how he urged a couple to be more loving towards one another, albeit in a joking manner; how he treated new friends as if they've known each other forever; how he was always a phone call away when you needed him and more. I was amazed at how my father's goodness extended outside his family. People we haven't seen for quite some time and people a million miles away, went out of their way to comfort us and let us know how much they grieve with us. Friends and relatives stood with us in prayer and traveled all the away to Imus just to console us.  The goodness and generousity we experienced during our time of grief was something we reaped from the goodness that my dad had sown throughout his life. 

A time to laugh, a time to weep...

Thank God I came from a family with a great sense of humor. Who else can laugh, or at least try really hard NOT to laugh, in the middle of a necrological service? Nothing beats family. They will always stand by you through weddings or funerals, birthdays or hospital confinements, reunions or break-ups. It certainly helps if they can see the lighter side of things, no matter how grim the situation is. 

A time to dance, a time to mourn...

Just when I thought I could no longer cry, something comes up (a piece of electronic, a TV show, a rock song, an ancient memory) that reminds me of my dad. When the sun is out and the house is filled with chores to accomplish, I almost forget that he's no longer with us. My mind tricks me into thinking that he is travelling somewhere and he will come home for dinner. But when the lights are out and the I am all alone in the room, all the memories come rushing in and I remember.  I remember the last meal he prepared for us. I remember the last night we spent together and the fireworks lit up the sky. I remember the sound of his voice and the stories he shared as we drove home. I remember that dreadful morning when I last held him in my arms and I cry. I cry for the sheer pain of losing him. I thought I knew what it was like to miss someone and to long for their presence but I was wrong. I know that this season shall pass eventually.  A time will come when we can dance once again. 

A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing...

I was thankful for the times I've spent with him: the times we watched a movie nearly every week because it was still cheap (read: P18/person), the times we went grocery shopping after service, the times we went on out of town road trips and he would bring his favorite cassette tapes like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, The Beatles, U2 and all those bands, the times when we would watch our current series obsession and realize we have the same favorite characters, the times when he would drive me to the bus station on my way to Laguna and he would always remind me to be careful. There were a million moments I shared with my dad and I could never recount them all.  But now the time has come where I can no longer embrace him. This may be a time of mourning for our family, but it is also a time to reflect on God's goodness and faithfulness. That is what refraining is all about: to regroup, to rethink, to refocus. I may have lost my biological father, but my heavenly Father is still sovereign. His plans for me will still prevail.