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Thank you, Alpha and Omega, for your kind words. One of the Scriptural calendars was perched upon my computer monitor, and I remember flipping it to April 4th and - after reading the Scripture - having a strange feeling and saying something like, "Oh." It was like deep down inside, I knew Dad was going to leave us soon. But I didn't really feel like he'd leave on April 4th.
Strange occurrance number 3.
Dad was born in 1944, and we were a family of four. Take a look at the date of his passing: 4/4/04. Mom pointed that out to me and my sister, but I failed to mention it last night.
Another thing that struck me was the fact that he left us on the exact same date that I was baptized. Since I'd decided to take this important step, I'd been praying that my father would be able to witness the baptism. Well, he did. And let's face it. He had a much better view.
Now, on to some very happy news. The baptism went well. It took place at around 1:00 Sunday afternoon, in the church elder's hot tub. Everyone gathered in the living room and listened to my testimony, which was hard to give, seeing as I've been battling an annoying cough for a few days, and my voice wasn't as good as it usually is. After my testimony, Pastor Hunt asked my mother if she'd noticed any change in her youngest daughter. (Her answer was a definite "Yes!" I asked her about that later, and she told me that my temperament has changed drastically. I'm not as snappish as I used to be, although I still do grouse sometimes.) I sat down on the table in the middle of the room, and everyone laid their hands on me and prayed.
Stepping into the hot tub was quite an adventure, let me tell you. It was much deeper than I thought it was, and Linda almost fell down, went boom. Pastor Hunt had me stand in the middle of the tub (Obviously, the deepest part) and face the witnesses (Consisting mostly of my close friends and family). He told me to bend my knees and hold my nose, then he did the traditional blessing, before he dunked me. (Backwards, not forwards. And only once.) It was a very strange experience, being under water, and I could feel my survival instincts beginning to kick in. Which is really stupid, because I knew I could trust Travis with my life. He wouldn't let anything happen to me. In fact, he was very quick to reach out for me as I was stepping into the tub.
Anyway, he pulled me back out and poured water on my head. (I forget. Does this symbolize the washing away of sin, or the outpouring of the Holy Spirit? Perhaps both? Or maybe he just sprinkled me. I'll ask my mom.) Our picture was taken. (I wore a stupid grin on my face, mainly because I was eager to get out of the water. Wet jeans weigh a ton!) I climbed out of the water (a bit awkwardly, I should add), and received hugs and well-wishes from my fellow Christians. (One man - I think his name is Alan - reminded me that the angels were celebrating in Heaven.)
The pastor followed me and my mother out to the car, and that's when she delivered the news. She told me that Dad had to watch the ceremony from a different angle. I handled it well, and I didn't even cry, because I'd been expecting it. I think that's why I was meant to read that Scripture. God was preparing me for what was going to happen. And I'll never, ever forget the fact that, as Pastor Hunt was praying with me, my mom, and a friend of the family, he wept for a man he never even knew. That tells me a lot about this man's character. He has such a big heart, and I was really touched by his reaction. (But then again, I don't know why I was so surprised. I'm a member of his flock, after all. And I'm also one of the Christian family. When a family member hurts, we all hurt.)
After receiving condolences from the other people who'd witnessed my baptism, I went home with my mom, wet clothes and all. To my dismay, I learned that Dad's body was still in his recliner, and I refused to go inside. At the moment, I didn't want to see his body. So, I went into the travel trailer and, as I changed into dry clothes, I released my emotions. Then I went back inside and glanced every now and then at my father's body. You will not believe how peaceful he looked, guys. It was amazing. And I'm so thankful that his passing was peaceful. There was no pain, his breathing gradually slowed, and then his soul slipped away. It was like he knew that everything was okay. And I'm very grateful that he knew that I was going to be baptized, which was something he was looking forward to seeing. (He was really cute about it, too. He frequently recalled his own baptism. I'd never seen him be so open about anything in his entire life.)
Beth, a friend of the family, was kind enough to take me and my sister to town, so we would not have to witness our father's body being taken away. It was a really sweet gesture, and I will never forget what she did for us. About two hours later, we returned to the Valley, and Beth left the three of us to spend some quiet time together. I did have a major breakdown later that night, and even now, I'm weepy. But I'm not wallowing in my sadness. I miss my Dad terribly, and I always will. But I'm comforted by the knowledge that my Dad is seeing all of the things that we Christians on Earth can only imagine.
Thank you again for everything you've done.
Yours truly,
Linda
Dedicated to the memory of
Gary D. Falke
Aug. 6, 1944 - Apr. 4, 2004