January 7, 2016: No other appointments were needed and my siblings had to move to a hotel for our last night in Nevada, so we did not see each other this day. One issue Val still needed to resolve was Dad’s truck. He had made no payments on it in a year. He knew that he was dying by then, and we assumed he did not think it was necessary to pay for a truck he would not keep. He also had no regular income.
She called the car lot to inform them that he had passed. After telling them the news, the conversation went something like this:
Val: How can I give the truck back to you?
Employee: We will need a copy of the death certificate.
Val: I do not have the certificate yet. I will not have it for at least another week.
Employee: We cannot take the truck without the death certificate.
Val: I am returning to Michigan tomorrow and I am trying to do the right thing here. I just want to give you your truck.
Employee: We need the death certificate.
Val: Can I speak to a supervisor?
After making no progress, Val told them: Fine. Your truck will be in the Walgreen’s parking lot on the corner of South Decatur and Blue Diamond with the key under the floor mat.
Employee: …
She then called the police department for some advice. After explaining the situation, they told her: We can’t take the truck.
Val: I know. I am just wondering if there is something else I can do.
Police: You told them where it would be parked, correct?
Val: Yes, but it could be stolen.
Police: …
They delivered the truck to the Walgreen’s parking lot and moved into a hotel a few miles outside of town. It was several shades darker than shady. Once in their room, one of them pulled the sheets back on the bed to check the mattress. It looked brand new. Cory said, “That’s because our mattress is out back in the dumpster with blood all over it.” He was not joking. They could see it from the window. At approximately 1:30 a.m., after failed attempts to relax, and a parade of police cars and an ambulance with lights and sirens had filled the parking lot, they decided to spend the rest of the night at the air port.
My day was less “exciting.” I drove to my favorite place in Vegas: Red Rock Canyon. I stopped several times during my drive, taking photos and videos, in awe of God’s ability to turn dirt and stone into art. “My dad is probably in Hell.” This thought dropped to the bottom of my heart like a large boulder in a small pond. “God, is there any way that he could be with You? Please let there be a way.” Dad’s choice to live in the Hell of his past had kept me (and everyone else) from seeing and loving him during the last several years of his life. I knew that, if he had also chosen to separate himself from God until his death, that separation would last forever. If… My only hope to see him again rested on that tiny word. I believe that God can reach us any time, any place, even if we are unconscious, on life-support, with only moments left to live. If God approached him there, if he finally realized that he had nowhere left to run and nothing left to run from, if he realized that the One he had been really running from was pursuing him with a love that could set him free from his self-imposed Hell, he might have said “yes.” Maybe I would see him. If… I drove back to Abbie and Nic’s with a spark of hope, trusting that the God I knew is a God of 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 105th chances, and He would have given Dad that chance. Because with God, all things are possible.
“Jesus looked at them and said, ‘With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26, NIV
Photos are from my trip to Red Rock Canyon, Las Vegas, NV.
Words Lived 