My sister was sobbing when I answered her call last night. Caller ID told me who it was before I picked up the phone. When I heard her uncontrollable crying I was shaken.

Her best friend from high school — for over 45 years — had died unexpectedly in her sleep. My sister was crushed. “I won’t see her anymore!” she said between sobs.

Memories of her friend flashed through my mind: the three of us riding to high school together; smoking cigarettes; swimming at night; skipping school; parties. After high school the two of them went to California and Hawaii together. And during that hippy era, they sent me my first (and only) foofy hippy shirt for my birthday.

They were always a team. Friends for life, even though they weren’t living in the same town.

I wept silently with my sister on the phone, while I tried to console her and cheer her up. She sounded much better by the time we hung up, but I knew what she would do after we talked. She would cry. And then cry some more.

Many years ago I would feel sorry for people who lost family members or friends. But I didn’t understand what it meant to grieve or mourn. I had never felt that pain for myself.

My relationship with my dad had been strained over the years. When he was about five years old his father died, so he didn’t have a great example to follow. His marriage to my mom ended long before their actual divorce. The first time he left our home I was about 13. Then he came back and my mom left. They fought over custody of us, and had us testify in court against each other. It was a crazy life.

Members of the 'Greatest Generation'

After I came back from California, and for the first few years of my marriage, my relationship with my dad improved. By the time I was 25 he and I really got along. One day we went to lunch together and I shared the good news about Jesus with him, while we ate apple pie a la mode. He actually prayed with me in the restaurant.

I felt my dad had earned the reputation to be part of Tom Brokaw’s “Greatest Generation.” He had been a sitting duck in B-17 airplanes when he flew missions over France and Germany during World War II. But he wouldn’t talk about it. He never bragged. Despite our family problems, he was my hero. Only my wife could give me greater joy than my dad. When we laughed together or he gave me his smile of approval, I really experienced love.

Back then a lot of dads didn’t hug their sons. It wasn’t manly. My dad was a ‘real man’ so he didn’t hug. But he laughed and joked and had a way of letting you know how he felt… and his handshake was just as meanful as any hug I’ve ever gotten.

In early 1974, soon after my second son was born, and just before I had to leave on a week-long business trip to Los Angeles, my dad came over to visit. We listened to a tape by David Wilkerson. When I got back from LA I called my dad to say hello. I spoke to my stepmother instead, who said my dad wasn’t feeling well.

I went to bed that night 35 years ago, and at 3:30 a.m. the phone rang. It was my stepmother. She was sobbing just like my sister was last night. I could barely understand what she was saying… “He’s dead. Your father died!”

How could that be?! He was fine when I saw him a week ago. He’d been exercising for weeks, walking everyday. He’d lost 20 pounds on a diet. And he was down to just one or two cigarettes a day. I thought he was healthy!

That was the first time I ever really knew what grief and mourning was like… I could actually feel the pain physically in my stomach and chest. Sometimes it was difficult to breathe. This kind of thing only happened to other people, right? Not anymore.

Of course, I knew my dad was in heaven. I knew what God had done for him many years ago on the cross, as well as what He had done in him recently. But the pain was still terrible. Almost overwhelming. Now I understood Jesus’ words. Mourn with those who mourn. It wasn’t just the polite thing to do anymore. I truly understoon the pain of losing someone you love.

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus. For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words.  - I Thes. 4:13-18