It’s Tuesday again.  I’m very glad that I worked on packing the bags I had been given last week.  I looked through all of the contents so I would know what I was carrying, added my own contributions and then stepped on the scale with them.  They all should be just under the 50 lb. limit. Thankfully they were.

I’m glad I got  this done because Saturday night I got a call from my hometown that my dad had died – a heart attack most likely. The rest of the night was spent making travel arrangements, not to Cambodia but to Hayward, Wisconsin.  It’s always a complicated procedure to get ticketed on a reasonable flight, at a reasonable price, at the last minute. Even more of a chore when I’m not thinking clearly.  There was another decision to be made every five minutes and they all seemed hard, even the little inconsequential ones.  I had to persist and get there as quickly as I could.  Around 1 am I finally found a way to get home by the next afternoon.

Travel next week will be on Sunday again – back to Bradenton, hopefully in time to wash clothes, pack again and travel to Jacksonville on Monday, to fly on Tuesday to Atlanta and then on to Cambodia.  I feel well traveled.  Maybe over traveled.  This is not the time for me to write about how I’m feeling here, getting ready for my dad’s memorial service.  I am thankful to be surrounded by friends and family,  by love and support.  I will only say that my dad, Owen Smith, will be missed a lot.  We weren’t really prepared to be without him but in some ways the timing was providential.  God knew.

Love you Dad.  It’s so evident now that the body is only a shell to hold the real person for a limited time.  We are really made and groomed for what lies ahead, after we leave this present reality.