Remembering Dad

It was two years ago today, on a day not all that unlike this one, that I received the call from my brother that Dad had passed away. I was home with my son, who was two at the time, and was watching cartoons in the other room at that moment. He heard me crying and came running out to me. He said, "What's wrong Daddy? Did you hurt yourself when you were out here by yourself?" I told him, no, that his Uncle had called me with some bad news. He then wanted to know if my brother had yelled at me. So I explained to him that, no, he hadn't yelled at me, but that my Dad had died and was in Heaven now, and that I was going to miss him because I wouldn't be able to see or talk to him anymore. He hugged me and said he was sorry, and headed back for his cartoons. At that time my wife was still working at Wal-Mart, and her Dad worked there also, doing oil changes and tires back in the Tire, Lube Express, which made him much easier to get ahold of than she was, being on a cash register, so I called him first, and he went and told my wife, and let her boss know that she needed to come home. We packed up for the trip to New York, and then went and picked up our daughter from school. When I explained to her what had happened, her first words were, "Oh Daddy, I'm so sorry your Daddy died."

Dad was supposed to have a Dr.'s appointment that morning. Mom was at work, and a friend was going to take him to his appointment, but when the friend got there she found him in his power chair, looking like he was asleep, which is what she thought for just a moment. While we don't know exactly when it happened, we do know that he was all dressed to go, had his coat on and was sitting as he always seemed to be while waiting to be picked up for one of his many appointments. The Dr thought it happened instantly without much pain because his clothes were not disheveled, so he did not appear to have grasped his chest. It is entirely possible that he fell asleep in his chair and simply slipped on to Glory.

The picture above gives some idea of the view from his grave sight, which Mom and I visited this past Christmas. Which brings me to the first thing that I really want to share today. This first one is from a plaque that Mom has hanging on her bedroom wall, next to a very nice picture of her and Dad:

The Broken Chain
Author Unknown

We little knew that morning, that God was going to call your name.
In life we loved you dearly, In death we do the same.
It broke our hearts to lose you, You did not go alone;
For part of us went with you, The day God called you home.
You left us peaceful memories, Your love is still our guide;
And though we cannot see you, you are always at our side.
Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same;
But as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.

This next one is a poem that I wrote on the drive to New York, on the very day that Dad died. The Pastor read it at the funeral, and I think he made it sound better than what it is, but I'm going to share it with you anyway.

Dad
By Matt Wiser
Feburary 15, 2006

Today I lost a man I've Loved,
Since the day that I was born,
I'll never forget my brother's broken voice,
As it shattered my peaceful morn.

I always knew this day would come,
And that I would be sad,
But surely it'd be down the road,
I'd have to say goodbye to Dad.

Somtimes we used to diagree,
To argue, and even fight.
I had to become a Dad myself,
To see that he was right.

I wonder why I lost my Dad,
While I'm still so young a man,
But some things in this life,
We'll never understand.

I'll see him someday,
Leaping on streets of Gold,
I'll hold his hand and sing,
While we bask in Jesus' Glory, Joy untold.

How can I talk of the love of God,
On the day my Father died?
Because I know, when he met our Lord,
Jesus' arms were open wide.

To turn my back upon my God,
Is something I could ill aford.
The Lord giveth, and the Lord hath taken away,
Blessed be the name of the Lord.

And now I've saved the best for last. This next one is a poem that my dad wrote many years ago. While I don't know exactly when he wrote it, he had it notarized on October 26th 1971.

My Dream
By Leo C. Wiser

Last night I dreamed and Angel came
and took me far away,
To a place that we call Heaven
To a far, far better day,
I walked along those streets of gold
And marveled at what I saw,
The mansions Christ had prepared for me,
I stared in utter awe!

I dreamed that I saw Peter
And James and John and Paul,
The disciples and the prophets,
I rejoiced and talked with them all,
While behind were left the heartaches
That I had come to know:
The pain, the tears, the sorrow;
I didn't really miss it though!

I dreamed I saw my mother
Waiting for me there.
What a change there was from her death bed,
Her eyes were bright and fair.
No more pain and sorrow,
She spoke without a care;
And many other friends I know,
Were now in that land so fair.

Then I heard the choir of Heaven,
How beautifully they sang
The Hallelujah Chorus,
And Glory to his Name.
Then I saw a light so bright
That I could scarcely see.
I heard a voice so gently say,
"Welcome home with me."

And then I saw my Saviour
With arms outstretched to me,
Those nail-pierced hands and feet and side
Were oh so plain to see.
Down on my knees to Him I cried,
"I've been so unfaithful, Lord."
He said, "For you I was crucified;
Eternal Life is your reward."

I touched those nail-pierced hands and feet;
The tears flowed down my face.
He gently spoke again to me,
"My child, you've won the race."
"I am not worthy, Master,
In your presence here to be."
He dried my tears, and took my hand,
Then said, "Now welcome home with me."

It was this last poem, the one that Dad wrote, that I read at the funeral.

I miss my Dad, but I know where he is. Dad knew (KNOWS!) Jesus as his personal Lord and Savior, and is with him now in Glory. Dad talked a lot about politics, and was passionate about his positions and opinions, but I know that he really cared deeply about where people were going to spend eternity. Like many Christians, Dad wanted to see people come to know Jesus, and to get saved, and he served in the Church, in many capacities, and was an AWANA leader for many years. If even one of those kids whose lives he touched got saved because of the way God used Dad in their lives, well, what better legacy could there be?