legacy...

Sympathy certainly has many forms and faces. Today I was getting my car inspected and my oil changed before work. I brought my car to the local shop that my whole family has used for years. My brother knows the mechanics there very well, and as such frequent customers, we are known by name. As I was waiting for them to finish up, with the sounds of hydrolic machines and gears clinking in the background, the guy at the front desk paused in the middle of his nonchalant chatter and said how sorry he was about my dad. That right there would have been enough. That's where most people stop. But instead, he went on...and on...and on. 'He was just too young. I'm almost that old. At least he went fast - that's a good thing. But just too young.' Okay, bud. Just stop. Thanks for your condolences and I get it. Trust me, if anyone knew my father passed away too early, I do. But who are we to say when someone has completed their mission here on earth? How can we really say he was too young? To me? Yes. I feel like I didn't have nearly enough time with him. That I'm going to miss him in so many more moments in life. That I feel like he should have been allowed to stay with us for many, many years. But...it's not up to me. He had a purpose. God saw fit that he'd completed that purpose - and completed it well - and it was time to go home. Do I have a hard time understanding it? Of course. Many, many times I've wished to turn back time. To press the rewind button. But life moves forward. The surreality of it all is still so hard to swallow and some days I actually have to remind myself that he isn't coming back. And I get sad, my eyes tear up and all I want to do is curl up in bed and cry for days and days. But we were lucky for the time we did have. For the memories we'll have forever. For the values, the faith and the morals we've had taught to us that will be taught to our children and so on. He may not be physically living, but he is still living on through us and everything that we do. And for that, I can be happy.