Three years ago on August 27th, my 26th birthday, I spoke to my Dad for the last time. He called, as he often does, on my birthday, and sang Happy Birthday to me and we spoke briefly. I was too preoccupied with my own life to spend more time talking to him than I normally did, simply because I knew he would be around the next day or the next for me to talk to. Come to find out, he had been planning on coming to visit me with my Mom that weekend to surprise me since I had moved to Louisville at the beginning of the month, but then he ended up having some complications with his hemmorhoid surgery and the doc told him he would probably be really uncomfortable traveling 4 hours. So, I was none the wiser and therefore not disappointed when my parents decided they'd have to come visit another time. My mom told me about this thoughtful hopeful surprise my Dad had planned after I heard the news of his passing. I spent the night with my friend Anna, and we got home really late/early in the morning, so we went to sleep. I didn't know I had put my phone on vibrate and so when I received a call at 5am, I did not pick it up. I also slept through several additional calls and some text messages. I woke up at 10am and went to my phone to check it and found everyone in my family had called or texted me, so I panicked. I called my mom, and after a brief moment of explanation as to why I had not answered my phone, she said these words, "Your Daddy died this morning."
Going over that right now, typing it, still stops my heart to see it or say it. I began to hyperventilate, and couldn't believe that it was possible. I said no over and over again, and sent my friend Anna into a panic. I told her "My Dad died this morning," which sent her into a panic, and she began calling friends that were out of town to let them know what happened. My mom was crying on the other line and kept saying she was sorry she had to tell me like that, but didn't want to make me come home without any knowledge of why. I told Anna I didn't think I'd be able to drive myself home, so she quickly offered to take me home. I said I didn't know how I would get back to Louisville, so her Dad quickly was called and he booked me a flight to return to Louisville later that week. I was numb the whole way home. We stopped to eat a few times. I would randomly start crying in disbelief, and other times I sat in silence. Anytime I had to tell someone that my Dad died, new tears would come for me, Anna, and her roommate Karina, who had taken the trip with us as well. I couldn't BELIEVE that just days prior I had spoken to my Dad, and he had sounded happy and healthy. To hear that he stopped breathing at 5am this morning and my brother was unable to revive him sounded impossible...a nightmare. By the time I got home, I didn't have any tears left. I was hugged by many that were eagerly waiting my arrival; and I really didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't accept it. The next couple of days were a BLUR. I went with my mom to plan the funeral- agreed to sing as it would have been my Dad's wish and got some of my friends to participate in the worship portion as well. We went to the visitation and it was at that moment that it became real to me. My Daddy was gone. He was already up in Heaven, dancing with Jesus, completely whole and without a care in the world. No matter how amazing it is to know that, my heart was broken...it still is. The funeral was the next day, and over the course of the two days of the celebration of my Dad's life, I heard so many good things and how proud he was of me and how much he loved me, but I appreciate those things now. I didn't then; didn't want to hear my Dad in the context of the past tense. All I could think of was that I brushed him off to go spend time with friends and I could have talked to him longer than 30 minutes on my birthday. I know that this was not a healthy thought- I had no way of knowing he would be gone, and I fully expected to have a really long and jovial talk with him on that Saturday, the first Bama game of the season. No one expected it. We were all fortunate to have some kind of special moment with him shortly before he passed, though.
I am blessed to have had such an amazing Daddy. He frustrated me to no end at times and we were both stubborn which caused us to butt heads. He caused some hurt in my life but I am fortunate that the Lord provided healing in that relationship well before I lost him. But, I also know he loved me more than anything and he would have walked through fire for me if it had been necessary, even when our relationship was difficult. SO, obviously, my birthday has taken on new meaning to me at this point in my life. I don't really care to celebrate my life or how long I've lived...I don't really like my birthday all that much at all. I miss my Dad. I wish he were still around to call me and sing Happy Birthday, and tell me that he loves me. I wish I could hear his voice, hear his reassurance when times are difficult...get one of his hugs...hear one of his sayings come out of his mouth. I love that man more than anything. I love that he is whole again and has both legs. I love the assurance that he IS with Jesus, and that it was clearly his time to go home. I sure do wish he could still be here though. I have a feeling that no matter how long it's been, it's still going to be hard. Richard Aaron Barrier, I miss you and I love you forever. 10/7/50-8/30/08
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