Up to the end, Stan Yep retained his sense of humor. But life lost its taste for him.
My dad (father-in-law) died yesterday. You ought to congratulate me. He’s in Heaven.
Do people cry for a touchdown? For a grand slam? For the World Cup winning goal? Do they cry at graduations? Well, maybe they cry tears of joy.
Yet graduation to Heaven exceeds each of these earthly joys. Finally, my much-loved dad shed his decrepit body and put on his glorified form. Heaven’s for Real suggests that people get the best, youthful version of themselves in Heaven. Is Dad bowling already?
In his last days, Dad remembered his military salute. It warmed my heart.
Call me weird. But I just can’t cry. Sure, I’m going to miss him, but I have no misgivings about eternity. It seems to me that people cry only because of their doubts. I mean, if the evolutionists have it right that we are just bio mass with self consciousness until we cease to exist and get eaten by worms, then yeah, wail and howl unendingly.
The family get-togethers have been celebratory, and that seems the right way to me. No drowning sorrows with alcohol. That wasn’t Dad’s life. He lived for God.
But sorry, with due respect to all my atheistic friends — and they’re all my friends, but I can’t think for myself and subscribe to the notion that all of creation came from nothing, anymore than when I see a beautiful hotel building, I can’t believe it just formed by itself. (How does an atheist observe a funeral?)
Before my mom died, she told me she didn’t want weeping. She wanted us to dance and celebrate. She
Dad, in his final days.
would be with Jesus. Before she graduated, she had Alzheimer’s. Why would she — why would we, or anyone — want her to stay here and deteriorate? That would be like forcing her to suffer misery in an Indian slum hovel instead of living in a five-star hotel. And believe me, the five-star hotel comparison comes up short.
So I am happy today! Please don’t try to guilt me for not feeling the way you think I ought. Sincerely, I ask, if you are a true believer, why don’t you feel the way I do?