Time Well Spent

Give everyday like it might be your last; one day it will be.

 

Author’s note: The following letter is written for my two youngest daughters, in honor of my eldest daughter, Alisha, who would be twenty today. 

Dear Sianna and Lia,

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved to give.

Since you will never get to meet your big sister here on Earth, I thought I would fill you in a little on her life.  If you recall nothing else from this letter, remember your sister as the girl who loved to give. 

We all will be remembered for something, good or bad, and in my opinion she lived seven years better than some live seventy seven.

Her name was Alisha Erin.

It was nearly thirteen years ago when Alisha Erin and I last talked on April 28^th, 2000.  She had just celebrated her seventh birthday the week before and was anxious to go to the local pharmacy with me while I ran some errands.  During our last true moment together I became her personal chauffeur and watched firsthand as she did what she loved to do most- GIVE.

She was a tornado in a dress.

She waited as best she could for me to finish my business, but the birthday money Alisha had just received was burning a hole in her pocket.  The main reason she had come was to buy some snacks for the evening.  Her smile let me know she was pleased with her purchase of chips and crackers, so we began our march toward the register.  I can still see Alisha with her pink purse belt strapped around the waist of her dress, as she skipped and danced her way to the checkout counter, like she was dancing with a tornado.

Alisha had brown hair and blue eyes.

After Alisha paid for the items something wonderful happened in her seven year old world; she received some quarters back in change.  With a big smile she asked me, “Daddy can we play the crane game?”  How could I say no to the girl with brown hair and blue eyes whose spirit and appearance was similar to my own?  We left the pharmacy and ventured to the neighboring department store lobby.  The crane game is a simple piece of equipment.  You insert a quarter, direct the arrows, push a button to make the crane drop and hopefully you end up with a load of candy.  “Play till you win”, the slogan read.  If only life were that simple.  As normal, Alisha took her time putting the quarter in to the game.

She had a deep, raspy voice.

After several near misses the crane hit pay dirt and she captured a piece of toffee.  It was a flavor I did not care for and secretly hoped she would eat it herself.  Then in the parking lot she asked me if I wanted the candy in her deep, raspy voice which I had to strain to hear.  At first I refused, but after noticing her frown I quickly changed my mind.  When I popped the horrid piece of toffee into my mouth I turned away so she wouldn’t see me grimace.  This would have a bitter after taste that would last for quite a while, but my heart was smiling.

She had an infectious giggle.  

Putting you kids to bed is a responsibility I cherish.  With that being said Alisha and I had a special bedtime tradition.   It was during these special times at bedtime that she had fallen in love with a particular story about a squirrel named Jimmy Joe Bob.   Jimmy was a little squirrel about Alisha’s age that had a problem; he never listened to his mommy and always paid the price.  These were silly stories at best, but in Alisha’s little world a good night was one story, a great night was two.  The premise of the story was quite simple as I used the stories to teach her the importance of obedience. Then, I would tuck her into bed and she would wrap her arms around me and tell me she was never going to let me go and she would let out this infectious giggle, while I tried to wiggle free.  

Alisha could be a little stinker at times. 

During our final moment together, after she had fallen into a deep sleep called a coma, it was only natural for me to share with her a Jimmy Joe Bob story.  Her heart and mine were soaring for one last magnificent time.  Her final bedtime story went a lot like this:  There was once a little girl who knew a squirrel named Jimmy Joe Bob.  They were best of friends and had a lot of great times together, but the time had come for the little girl to leave.   It was time for her to go and live with Jesus.”  Nothing happened.  So, I told her with tears welling up in my eyes,” Alisha, Jimmy thinks it is time for you to go.  It’s OK you can go now,” giving her my permission.  Yet, she stayed.  As she had done so many times before, I believe the little stinker was holding out for a second story, she wasn’t ready to say goodnight or in this instance, goodbye.

She loved the tooth fairy, hated the pain.

Then there is the story about the tooth, the last gift she personally gave to me. You are both now at the age when you can’t wait to hit up the tooth fairy for some loose change. Alisha was no different, except she hated the pain. In the weeks before Alisha died, she and I struggled to remove her last remaining front tooth. I would wiggle the tooth, she would scream, I would stop. This painful dance would happen over and over again, yet I couldn’t free the tooth.

Alisha had the best wrap around hugs.

A funny thing happened moments after I told Alisha her final bedtime story. One of the nurses approached me with a gift from Alisha, with her head down and her hand closed. As she opened her hand, there was that pesky tooth. To me it was like a wraparound hug, a big thank you from Alisha for letting her go.  Mind you, I would have much rather paid her the buck, the going rate in our house for a front tooth, but it was what I so sorely needed at that moment.

She loved to dance with her daddy. 

Alisha and I had another special thing we liked to do. Every time the credits rolled for the Disney movie, Tarzan, we danced while Phil Collins sang “You’ll Be in My Heart.”  The credits are that brief moment where you take a deep breath and replay all the highlights of the movie before you must re-enter life.  A funny thing about that song is that those are the last words I ever spoke to Alisha before she died. So, anytime I hear that song, You’ll Be in My Heart” on the radio or wherever  I am it reminds me that one day I will dance with her again, someday. However, this time I look forward to us all dancing in Heaven with Alisha, when we are altogether. 

Alisha’s life was time well spent.

This story is my gift to you from Alisha, so if you ever forget you now have a reminder.  Remember, like Alisha, make your life time well spent.

Love, your Dad

(Swavel)