I lost my father in 2001. His favorite song was the Louis Armstrong classic “What a Wonderful World.” Each Father’s Day I listen to that song. My father understood that the words spoke to the things that really matter, once everything that pretends to matter is stripped away, and as the years go by, its words open up more to me.

My father grew in tenderness and compassion as he faced death. It is funny how difficulties and struggle, suffering and strife, seem to be the most effective means of refining us all. He finally died of the heart ailment which had claimed so much of his vigor.

As with every struggle he faced, he did not give up. He was a fighter and he did not want to go. In fact, I was at his “death bed” a couple of times. He decided he had more jokes to tell and more love to give.

It was my father’s fighting spirit which I have particularly grown to admire as the years have passed by. Oh, as a younger man, he perhaps fought the wrong battles. We all do. But that does not really matter any longer. I see now that life gave him time to smooth off the rough edges of a hard life and become the man I remember. So it is doing with me, his son, and I pray my children will remember me the way I remember my father.

I think back on my final years with him and I still have regrets. Though I can’t get those years back, the memories of the time I did have with him take on new meaning as I walk along the path that he did, raising my family and trying to love in both word and deed.

As the years have passed, my sense of loss has changed. As I so often tell grieving family members at funerals, the pain of loss we feel when we remember our deceased loved ones is just another manifestation of the eternal nature of love.

I actually tell his jokes, and use his expressions, both facial and verbal. In many respects, I have become just like him. When I was in my twenties, becoming like my father was one of my greatest fears. Now, it has become one of my greatest honors.

Today, on Father’s Day, I will reflect on the years that I had with my Dad. I miss him. As a Christian, I believe that I am joined to my father in a communion which stretches through time and into eternity. But I still miss him. If you still have your father with you, love him and let him know how important he is to you. Hug him a lot, while you can.