Snow Diamonds

by Linda Hoopes   

Watching the scenery flash by the car window on that cold January morning, I wondered if we would make it to the hospital in time. My husband, Bill, our 12 year old daughter, Lynn and I had hastened into the car only 10 hours earlier. And now pressing on my mind was the question, “Would Dad still be alive when I arrived?” It had been almost 12 hours since the dreaded call came. Those words continued to ring in my mind, “Dad’s in the hospital, you must come now!” We lived in Southeastern Indiana where Bill was an associate pastor. My childhood home, Norfolk, Virginia was almost 12 hours drive. Those twelve hours slipping in out of a fog of sleep intermingled with memories and fear, were torturous.

I remember vividly the call we received 12 hours earlier. The expression on Bill’s face as he handed me the phone revealed the message, “bad news.”

Five years earlier Dad fought and won the battle with liver cancer; something unheard of in the early 80’s. An experimental procedure was tried and Dad had been the first to survive the surgery. Recovery was long and hard and at times disappointing and frustrating with many setbacks. Dad had gone almost 5 years with no trace of the cancer. Odds were in his favor that he was cancer free. But November of 1987 Dad called to say a routine checkup had revealed spots on his lungs. With that news, I decided Bill, Lynn and I had to celebrate Christmas with Dad and Mom. Unspoken thoughts were that this most likely would be the last time we would all be together.

Now in this urgent trip to make it by my father’s side, I gazed out the car window and realized it had indeed been the last Christmas together. September 1987 I attended a retreat. That experience had changed my life. It renewed the Holy Spirit within me and made Christ come alive in my life. From that experience I renewed my commitment to Christ and strove to “walk in His steps.”
Additionally, I received strength to face the impending crisis in my family. I was very close to my father. He had been the one who educated me in my Christian faith. Because of our closeness, the family expected that I would not handle his death very well.

Looking back over the past year, I was thankful for having written a Valentine’s Day letter to Dad. In the letter I expressed deep feelings for Dad never shared before. My family was not a “touchy, hugging” family that expressed feelings openly. And with the wry sense of humor that grew rampant in the family, it was fruitless trying to be serious long enough to share those feelings.

And so, the letter…   A Love Letter to Dad:
I thought it best to write down how I feel about you. There have been so many times that I have wanted to tell you this, but I have difficulty putting feelings into words; a trait that I inherited from you. Do you remember the time that we were sitting down to dinner with the next door neighbors? I mentioned that all the education that schools and colleges had to offer could not measure up to the “OJT” that you had given me while we were converting the garage into a family room.

That was just the tip of the iceberg of how thankful I was for your hand in raising me. Dad, you have made a tremendous impact on my life. What you did was much like what we did as a team to that ol’ shell of a garage. You took an immature child and helped build her into an adult. You took a hollow shell and insulated it with love to hold in the warmth much like the insulation placed in the garage walls. Like straightening the beams, you helped me straighten and direct my thoughts on who I was and what I wanted to be. Much like the intricate wiring that went into that shell, you threaded your knowledge, experience, caring and love into me that is now entwined in my soul and tightly wrapped around my heart. The detailed finishing touches made the garage into a beautiful, warm family room; the detail that you gave and the care that you showed in raising me were the finishing touches needed to make me a warm and caring person. And the last thing installed in the garage that brought warmth and made the room livable was the heater. But with me, you did not need to add the heat; it was already there.

Combining all that you gave to me freely, the warmth was a radiation of the unconditional love you showed. In many things that I do… I see you. It fills my heart with joy. I have wanted so much to be like you. These traits that are a combination of both you and Mom I hold deep within my heart where my most precious treasures are stored. To lift back that vale covering these memories has been very difficult. Your broad smile, your “half-cocked” smile, your dark complexion, your short gray hair, your quick wit, your love of a good joke, your love of a “bad” joke, your laugh, your “kidding” laugh, your strengths, your weaknesses, your caring, your loving, your sharing, your wisdom… these all and more add up to MY DADDY. Happy Valentines Day, From the deepest part of my heart  

And now, the man that took so much interest in raising me… MY DADDY… was in a hospital bed struggling with lung cancer. Two hours from Norfolk we stopped for breakfast. We had been traveling all night to get by his side in time. While Lynn and I hurriedly ate, Bill placed a call to the hospital to find out how Dad was doing. He came back to the table and said “Dad was holding his own… but let’s get back on the road.” About 20 miles down the road I looked at my watch; it was 8:15 a.m. A deep sadness and feeling of loss came over me. We were in the midst of the Blue Ridge mountains in Virginia.

I looked up to the top of a nearby snow-capped mountain through tearing eyes. Just at that moment a gust of wind swept across the mountain gathering up powdered snow and casting it high into the air. With the rising sun behind it, the snow looked like a million diamonds flashing across the sky. And it was in that moment I knew… I knew Dad had passed on. And this was his way of saying “good-bye.” My Dad taught me to love and respect nature. I guess that was the New York Seneca blood in him. What better way to “wave” good-bye then in a glory of “snow diamonds…” one of nature’s glorious creations.