Ten years ago, my father’s heart stopped beating while I held him. And yesterday, he reminded me that he’s always with me.
Dad’s message came in a giant contrail spread across the bright, blue sky.
Why I associate my father with a contrail
My dad was a very active 85-year-old, but his heart valve replacement was failing. His movements were restricted, as he was tethered to a constant oxygen supply inside their cabin on the 8,000-foot edge of the San Luis Valley in Colorado. Yes, breathing at a lower elevation would have been easier, but Dad loved where he lived. He sat in front of one of the picture windows with the sun’s warmth on his back.
He often turned to look at the huge expanse of blue sky, marveling at the contrails.
What is a contrail?
The white streaks left behind by jet airplanes are called contrails, short for condensation trails, and form when hot, humid exhaust mixes with cold, low-pressure air at high altitudes, causing water vapor to condense and freeze into ice crystals.
The skies in Colorado are expansive, while in North Carolina, the trees limit my view of the sky.
I walked out to the front porch to take this photo, and the sun was integral, too. There was so much glare from the sun that I couldn’t see the image I was taking.
It’s also no surprise that I have begun to understand why I’m here, why my parents named me Dawn, and what I offer you, my readers.
It became clear two days ago.
My name is Dawn. Why? My mother could never explain why they named me Dawn, but now I know.
I am the dawn
We are one.
I cherish mornings, often waking before sunrise. It’s been a long time since I had trouble getting to sleep. Is it because of my name that sleep comes easily? That seems unlikely.
My life has been filled with unexpected difficulties, especially in relationships – divorce, suicide, and the death of my father.
Yet, I have come through all of it with a smile. How?
Rather than dwell on the difficulties of the past, I look to the possibilities of the future while embracing the now.
Living in the moment helps me move through grief.
Living in the moment helps me find joy.
No matter the depth of the darkest night, dawn always shines its light upon the world.
You can count on the dawn because the Creator has bestowed this gift to everyone.
One Final Thought
Ten years ago, my father’s heart stopped beating. I treasure those last moments, but they were my life’s most difficult twenty minutes. I wanted to record my memory of it and wrote a personal essay. My Father’s Love: You’re One of the Good Ones, which The Mindful Word published in August 2017. This story recounts my father’s last moments and how they affected my life.
Yes, I’ve cried numerous times today. I’ve also smiled and laughed. That’s what life is: sadness and joy intertwined.
