As I was falling asleep last night I prayed for my friend Mike, who recently attempted suicide, again. I prayed for my Dad as well. And as I prayed I recalled how when I got hurt my Dad would say, "I am sorry, Kev."
Maybe I had fallen off my bicycle, or jammed my fingers in the door, or had a splinter lodged in my sole so deep he couldn't pull it out with tweezers. It was always so heart felt and although it wouldn't take the pain away I knew it meant he was there for me. And as I prayed for him last night I knew I couldn't take his pain and suffering away. Rather I prayed that my Dad would know that I am sorry.
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