“Just keep at it,” I heard him say.
He’ll say things to me from time to time. Some are complete thoughts, other times they’re words that seem random but aren’t; they’re relevant to a situation or a problem, and they’re a beacon for my foggy brain.
I am my father’s daughter. Stoic and reserved, I skew quiet — but I’m not passive. I am strong sans aggression, confident sans ego. I also internalize stress the same way he did; if we could win medals for such a trait, we’d be highly decorated.
The beacon came around again.
“You’re doing fine. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.”
The thing about my dad is that he passed away more than a year ago. But his words, advice, and encouragement are still very much alive and well.
The man with a mortgage, a family, his son’s flight school, daughter’s college, and the occasional [and always used] car payment had been a victim of “corporate downsizing” during times in his life when the cash was steadily leaving his pockets. He chased leads in Northern California while my mom held down the fort; he chased more leads in Arizona because it was dubbed “the future for insurance” while she continued to hold things down at home. But the leads dried up as quickly as wet ground in the desert.
Still, he always “went on faith.” He went on faith because his God — our God — was bigger than any problem.
In time, he found a company where he worked until the end, and went on faith even when he was in the hospital. He’d tell me he was “in God’s hands.” I knew he was right, and I know that I am now.
The thing about a layoff is that it can be for any reason, but it’s never a good one; the timing will never be good for a job to evaporate. As quickly as it manifested itself less than one year ago, it’s gone. It’s my turn to go through what he experienced multiple times, and while I don’t know where my next adventure will take me, I know one thing for sure:
“I’m doing fine.” I’ll chase any lead. And I’ll peacefully go on faith.
So grateful for my dad who’s still with me today.