I started my morning by writing a letter to my dad. I had so much to ask, but he answered more. In a few short paragraphs, I knew immediately what my next book will be. It was so matter of fact and clear what it will be. More on that later…
I also asked my dad to show me in some way today that he hears my prayers and to clearly show me his presence.
Then I left to run the 5K race for Lungevity. So appropriate to run it on the anniversary of his passing.
I went by myself because I needed to be alone. But it wasn’t long after I arrived that I saw groups and teams and others honoring people that I missed my family. I missed my dad. I sat by myself as I waited for the race to start, I couldn’t fight my back tears.
And soon I felt someone sitting next to me. It was an older lady. Beautiful, vibrant, loving. She asked if I was ok.
I couldn’t speak. So she hugged me. She asked why I was there. I could only point to my shirt with my dad’s name on it.
She told she was a 5-year survivor of stage IV lung cancer. She has one lung left that works and was confined to a wheelchair last year. I looked at her and would never have guessed. She looked healthy and full of life.
I was speechless.
I could tell she knew exactly what I was thinking as she responded, “I know. Every time I think I don’t have much time left, it turns around.” Then she said she wanted me to have something.
She walked away and brought me a gift. I asked if I could open it and she smiled, “of course!”
It was this bracelet. It simply says “hope” with a card and story about these bracelets.
“It’s not about the bracelet, but the connection that is made between two people, often strangers, in that moment. Spontaneous moments. Full of hope and love, tears and laughter.”
It was that spontaneous moment that I knew my dad was with me by sending me an angel today.
…and then I ran….and I was the first female to finish…
I ran because I can. Because every time I think I can’t run anymore, I find the energy to go out and run strong again.
Thanks for my miracle today, Dad. I knew you were listening.