to everything there is a season: In honor of my father

“We can't be afraid of change. You may feel very secure in the pond that you are in, but if you never venture out of it, you will never know that there is such a thing as an ocean, a sea. Holding onto something that is good for you now, may be the very reason why you don't have something better.” ― C. JoyBell

I've always been afraid of change. I typically associate it with loss. Yet at the same time, I have always had an adventurous spirit. I have always had an unquenchable desire to learn, to grow, to experience the world, the diverse people in it, and their different ways and expressions of life.

2013 was a year heavy with loss and pain. I lost two of the most cherished people in my life, my dear Grandma Elsie, and just a few months later, my precious father. My courageous mom battled breast cancer and beat it. I broke free from personal cages that were binding me and my wings are ready to fly again. It was a year with dark clouds, a stormy season with few days of sunshine. And, yet, out of this dark season new hope has been born.

Today is my father's birthday. March is my father's month. For the last several years, my dad's birthday has always been a challenge...what gift could mean something to him when he was so limited by the afflictions of his disease? What joy could we bring him when so much was robbed from him? Yet we always managed to make the day special, giving him DVDs of his favorite shows, reading heartfelt cards, playing games in which he could answer through simple looks of the eye.

This week as I am living in South Korea right now my heart has been heavy. How can I celebrate my father's birthday this year? How can I honor his life? Floods of memories, some filled with joy, others with deep pain came over me this week as I sought to connect with my dad somehow. I wanted people in this country who I can hardly communicate with in my basic level Korean to know that today is my father's day; on this day an amazing man was born. I want to tell everyone about him, about his strength, about his love, about his dry humor, about his adventurous spirit, about his faith and his life. I want the world to know that a great man lived and is now gone and my heart aches and I want the world passing by to know. It feels like life is always full of juxtapositions. Christmas lights twinkling as carols were ringing, cars gathered and families huddled together in entertainment as my family and I stood hearts heavy, broken, exhausted as my dad left this world to be with God.

Today I am at a beautiful beach called Haeundae, in Busan, South Korea. I am thankful to be here and to have the ocean waves soothe my heart and the sunshine beat on my face. I wanted to find solace here, to find peace away from the busy city life of Seoul. My dad loved the beach. I have a lot of memories of my father at the beach. When I was a child we would boogie board together and I loved the safe feeling of his arms around me as we held on together. My dad often chose a rock we hardly could see far out in the ocean that he said he was going to swim to. Then he'd be gone for a few hours and I would watch the small wave of his arm hitting the seas and hope he'd come back soon. He always did and he was happy although he had made us anxious. I remember walking and talking at the beach, playing paddle ball and trying to beat our score, throwing a football, eating sandy food, watching fireworks from my grandparents house in Capistrano, and being proud of my dad body surfing in San Clemente.

Happy Birthday to my dearest Dad. I miss you and love you so much. This year you celebrate your birthday with your creator...our family king with our heavenly king. I trust you will have an amazing day beyond anything I can imagine. Thank you for everything, Dad--for your fight, for your legacy, and for your love. Love, T