It’s been 23 years since I saw my dad.  He fought heart and kidney disease throughout most of his life, but lost his battle at age 59 on April 20, 1992, the day after Easter.

I was 19 when he died, the youngest of 3 girls.  My sisters are 5 and 10 years older than me.  My mom became a widow at age 49.  She has done an amazing job serving as mom and dad for all 3 of us as we move through adulthood.  Below is a picture of us 2 years before he died (my senior prom):

My dad was a Lutheran minister with the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.  As a minister he often had to make difficult decisions that others disagreed with, but he did so with such grace and kindness that he was always loved and respected.

My dad fought high blood pressure starting in his 20s.  This later caused his kidneys to fail and he was on dialysis for the last several years of his life.  He would do his dialysis at home, and I still remember him yelling at us to get the cat out of the room because he needed a sterile environment.  Our cat at the time, Chuckie, loved my dad and even though dad had been in the hospital for 6 months before his death, that cat knew the day he died.  He was in mourning with the rest of us.

I have to wonder if a different diet would have improved his high blood pressure and overall health.  His mind was always sharp, but his heart was the problem.  Although my dad never had a heart attack, his dad died of a heart attack at age 45.  While I will never know, it does help motivate me to continue my journey of a healthy lifestyle.

Rarely does a day go by that I don’t think of dad, and I often fight regrets that I didn’t spend more time with him when I had the chance.  As a teenager, I always had more “important” things to do than sit with him and talk while he did his dialysis.  Instead I try to focus on the positive memories I have of him, to be thankful for the positive values he instilled in me and my sisters, and to look forward to the day we will be reunited in heaven.