I’ve tried to write this post for a month. It is something that is extremely important to me and I’ve struggled trying to decide if it is something far too personal to share on the world wide web. Last week I finally asked my mother for her permission to share this story and she gracefully consented. I pray that I may do it justice in the written word.
When my Dad passed away last month (Sept 19th) from a massive heart attack, it was sudden and shocking and has truly rocked my world in ways I never imagined. That sounds silly - obviously it changed things! But, hang with me here and I’ll explain.
My Dad was buried on Sept 22 at his family’s cemetery in his hometown, nearly an hour away from the town where my parents have lived for the past 30 years. His funeral was in their town and then we drove in funeral procession to the graveside service. Daddy had served in the U.S. Air Force many years ago and was entitled to military honors at his service.
Hearing the lone bugle play “Taps” after the 21 gun salute was such a somber moment, bringing the reality of the moment crashing home for me. I think part of me just couldn’t believe I would never see him again. Part of me still can’t believe that.
Watching the flag being folded and offered to my Mom was equally difficult for me and I can’t really even put my finger on WHY that simple act upset me so much.
I think it was just hard to grasp the finality of these moments for me - it just seemed so surreal in many ways. Like a really bad dream that I was trapped in. I’m sure everyone feels that way when something so traumatic and unexpected occurs.
After the funeral, we all went back to my parents house. It was great to just sit around the kitchen table with my Mom and family and share stories about him, which we did over and over during those days.
The following day, we continued to share stories and make tentative plans about what to do next. We knew we needed to return to the funeral home for the rest of the flowers and things later that day. When we finally arrived there, we were surprised by the number of large arrangements that were intended for the graveside but had been left behind. We stood there, discussing what in the world to do with them. It was decided that we’d all head back over to the cemetary the next day to deliver more of the flowers and see the area, without the tent and chairs.
We took three vehicles to fit the extra flowers and all of us. We unloaded the flowers and found ourselves sitting in the grass beside where my Dad was laid to rest. He is next to my Granny and near a brother of his that passed away before I was born (after whom I was named) and a cousin of mine.
Our conversation as we sat there varied from the serious to the frivolous and it wasn’t long before we started laughing together. After a while, one of my sisters said, “I can just see Daddy now, up in Heaven, looking down and shaking his head at us… saying to those around him - “Yep, that’s MY family! Bunch of nuts!’ but smiling the whole time,” and of course, we all laughed at the image it conjured up, knowing she was absolutely correct.
It is true, we all felt a certain light mood being there, I think. Maybe the passage of another 48 hours since the funeral had helped to settle my mind. Maybe it was seeing the beautiful final resting place where he was laid contributed to that feeling. We talked and laughed and began to pick around in the grass for 4-leaf clovers, something Lina has found bunches of over the years - while I have found exactly NONE. (She didn’t locate one that day… and I was GLAD!) The bright Indian Summer sun was very warm and after a while, we shifted under the shade tree, about 20 feet from where Daddy was buried. We continued to talk for a while and I finally realized that by using my cousins headstone - I could set the timer on my camera and get a picture of all of us.
They all laughed at me as I set the timer and sprinted into my place - TWICE. (You know, take two shots in case you screw up the first one!) By the time we finally left the cemetery, it was late when we got back to town. My sisters and I had planned to have a *sleepover* at Lina’s house that night so we just went straight to her house and not my parents.
Early the next morning, I arrived at my mom’s long before the others. (That wake-up-early-thing gets me going regardless of how much sleep I’ve gotten). As I opened my laptop and began to download all the pictures from the cemetery, my mom shared something with me:
I want you girls to know something, remind me to tell the others when they get here.
Yesterday, as we drove home from the cemetery, I felt your Daddy’s hand right here on my head. (Using one hand to cradle the side of her head in demonstration.) I placed my hand over his and rode home like that. I felt as if he was telling me that I was handling things just as he would have wanted. It comforted me and I want you girls to know: I am ok with all this thats happened. Sure, I’m going to miss him and sure, it’s going to be hard at times - I’ll cry and be lonely sometimes. But, I am OK with all this. And, I want you girls to be ok with it too.
As she was speaking those words, I was watching the pictures download into my laptop. Just as she finished, the last image opened on the screen.
Cold chills ran through me when I saw it.
I said, “Ma, come here. You have to see this.”
She walked to my side and as her eyes landed on the screen, she said, “Well. There he is. Standing right beside me, just like he always did in life.”
Now, in my rational thought processes, I know that *spot* beside my mom is the sun glinting off the lens of the camera. But, my heart wants to believe otherwise.
I’m not asking you to believe one way or the other. I just have looked at this picture a million times over the last month and wanted needed to share it with you.
It brings me comfort.
It challenges me to think about things differently than I always have in the past.
Had I seen the picture without my mom sharing the words she had just spoken, would I feel differently about it? I can’t answer that now…. because of the way it happened. I think she shared the story as I was watching the images download from camera to computer …. at precisely the same time, so that I WOULD make the connection that I made.
I think the Lord was working behind the scenes that morning.
And He gave me a little gift. I see it each time I look at this photo.
I’ve been blogging since June 2006, with my original blog over on Windows Live Spaces. I finally cut the cord earlier this year because WLS kept having a hitch in their giddy-up. I just decided to move onward and landed here. I generally post early because I can’t sleep past the butt-crack of dawn if my life depended on it, despite what my body feels like - my brain kicks on with the roosters. During November, I’ll be traveling some so we’ll see what the month holds. I don’t really have a theme for the month, like last year, but…. I’m going to see where the wind blows me.
I hate winter time. (Oh yeah, I said I didn’t use the word the hate!)
