My Father, Clyde, came to live with my husband George and me in 1996 after he was diagnosed with cancer. I was very close to my Dad. I loved him very much and, being an only child of parents who had me late in their child-bearing lives, we cherished being together. But we also dreaded the day when we would not be together on this earth.

A memorable discussion took place between my Dad and me a few weeks before he died. My Dad wanted me to know that if I spoke at his memorial service, I was not to brag on him, but on Jesus. He went on to tell me, "Anything that I have done that has been good on this earth, it has been because of my accepting Jesus, my Lord and Saviour, and Friend." We spoke for a few minutes about that relationship and then the moment was right for me to share something with him.

I talked with my Dad about how I would miss him so much. Later, to my amazement, I told my Dad I did not know if I could "take it in my heart and soul" to see him lowered in the grave. That would be the hardest thing to face at the service.

My Dad looked as though he knew some kind of secret and said these words, "Martha, you just might not have to go through that, sweetheart!"

I replied, "Of course Dad, I will go through it; I will have the strength. I love you and want to be there."

Well, we did not mention that again. I did, though, think it strange that my Dad had said I might not have to go through "seeing him lowered in the ground."

Dad passed away a few weeks later. At the memorial service I spoke of his faith and my love for him and my Mom, who was in a nursing center with Alzheimer's Disease. It was an emotional time for me.

After the service, we were to go to the interment. Instead, the owner of the funeral home came up to me and advised that the graveside service would need to be held in the chapel.

She said, "Mrs. Smith, I am so sorry, but it looks like no one except my attendants here at the funeral home and the pallbearers will be able to go to the graveside. It is pouring buckets of rain and with the red mud of North Georgia, you will not be able to see your Dad lowered in the ground. But you will probably be able to go tomorrow to see the flowers, as they will be placed on the grave and it will be covered as best as possible."

I thought, WHAT?!? What did she say?!?

My Dad had always protected and loved me so much. And now, true to his word, I did not have to go to the graveside. To this day, I wonder if my earthly Father and my Heavenly Father "got together" and planned this.

At the time it happened, I mentioned to my husband, "This is just like my Dad to do something like that!" He said, "Yes, but it also is like your Heavenly Father as well!"

Yes, it is.

Martha S.

Cornelia, GA