2:17 am. August 12th. My father was called home to heaven. My sister, wife, and I at his bedside, holding his hands. Very hard day. I miss him every day.
Since I was up in Pennsylvania on Sunday to preach, I stopped by the cemetery on my way home. I got him a little rose - he always loved roses. Always had them in the garden in front of his house. He was a fantastic gardener. I remember that he was always frustrated at the Japanese beetles eating his roses, and when they got blackspot disease. He taught me how to properly prune them, though I've forgotten now. Maybe one day I'll plant a rose bush around the house for him.
Looking forward to our reunion in Christ Jesus . . .
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