Jan 4, 2016
There are two pictures of seascapes hanging on the wall. One is of a sailboat heading out of a tree-lined harbor, its reflection mirrored in the water. Above it, windswept clouds are white against a bright blue sky. The other is of a weathered lighthouse like the Rock of Ages lighthouse near Isle Royal. The painted lighthouse overlooks a line of sailboats as they pass on the blue green bay.
Below these paintings lies my father, his features reflected in those gathered about him in the dimly lit hospice room. He is, like the sailboat in the picture, preparing to leave. But the light guiding us shines not from a lighthouse but a throne.
The year is coming to a close, and with it, the end of an era. As the ball drops in Time Square, my father rises, calm, at peace and totally free. I constricted by time, begin a new year; my father, free from every burden, begins a new life– a life built on the Rock of Ages.
Photo courtesy of porbital @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
- (no comments)