Grief (part 1 of ?)

As Caroline had already posted a couple weeks ago, my dad died on September 4, 2011. I think sometimes it's helpful to type or write things out as a way of remembering and processing, so here goes. I may or may not post more on the topic, but had a few thoughts to share.
My dad had breezed through his bone marrow transplant back in January/February/March of this year. He was home and playing golf in April. My dad was an incredibly strong man physically and also emotionally and mentally. So, when he called me in late August and said that they'd diagnosed leukemia in his skin, I was thinking - OK - this is serious, but he can beat this. I went with my parents to Denver for Dad's appointment with his doctor and he was also very positive. He said they needed to kill off this leukemia with chemotherapy and that the cancer wasn't systemic in the sense that it didn't show up in his blood tests, etc. So, all positive news. Dad made it through chemotherapy with flying colors until the day after his last dose, he developed a fever. This was Thursday. When they were going to move him to the ICU, I tried to fly standby to Denver, but couldn't and flew out the next day (Friday). When I got there, Dad was definitely sick, but in good spirits. And the doctor on Saturday said that he was on the backside and that "losing him wasn't even a concern" at that point. That all changed early Sunday morning. Dad began vomiting and may have aspirated some fluid and they put him on a ventilator. He never regained consciousness and died on Sunday evening.
I know that's a long story, but the point is how quickly this happened. I played golf with Dad 2 weeks before he died (and he beat my socks off). My Dad walked 3 miles in the hallway of the hospital on Wednesday and was dead on Sunday night.
I loved, respected and leaned on Dad a lot. We had a good relationship that never had a serious strain. And, even with that, I wonder if he knew how much I loved him. If he knew how much I respected him. If he knew how much I needed his help and advice. If he knew how much I would like to be like him. I didn't get a chance to tell him that in words. That stings and will sting for a long time, probably.
My dad on the other hand, did not fail to let me know how proud he was of me. And that resonated with all the people in Scott City that came to the funeral that told me over and over again how proud my dad was of me.
So, I think that's where the Gospel can work to free me from the crippling guilt that I would otherwise feel. I wasn't a perfect son, just as Dad wasn't a perfect dad. I blew it with my dad and letting him know verbally how much he meant to me. I totally blew it. But, that wasn't the first time I'd blown it with my dad. And, had he lived, wouldn't have been the last. I have never done anything perfect in my life - why would I have been a perfect son in the last few hours of Dad's life? And my hope can't be in my performance in ANY area of my life, because I fall so far short of perfection. If anything, this reinfrorces that I am inherently wired to WANT to be perfect, but don't have the gusto to pull it off. And I never will. And, Jesus did. Jesus did everything perfectly. I can't even imagine what that would have looked like. He was a perfect son, a perfect brother, a perfect friend. And perfectly obedient to God's law in EVERY way. Even Jews at Jesus time, who loved the law, called it a heavy yolk. And Jesus kept it perfectly. That he could pull that off, and then count it to me as if I'd done it is mind blowing.
So, the Jesus I trust is the same Jesus that my Dad trusted. And, if Jesus could live the perfect life that I desperately want and can't do, I know he's enough to trust for Dad's eternal salvation and enough to trust for moving on with life after Dad. He's good, and powerful, and enough. That doesn't remove the sting of my dad's death and the regrets I have, but it does give me hope.
I may write more on the topic (for myself and probably no one else) and will definitely write more about Dad in the future. He was a good man (not perfect), and I think blogging some memories would be good and hopefully interesting to read.
Hope you all have a good weekend. We're going to the Whimmydiddle and watching K-State play Miami tomorrow. Look for pics from Scott City soon.