Remembering is Healing

Eight months have passed since my Dad's funeral.  I am no longer in the blur that lasted through the fall and holiday season.  Think I am finally ready to now relive that day through my memories and photos.  It is a day I've wanted to push out of my memory, but doing that would take the celebration of my Dad's life with it.  He was a great man who lived a great life.  As hard as it was to plan, the day we officially said goodbye to Dad was everything it should have been.

Remembering the special things that made him him in letters read from Dad's boss Kelly, Mom's doctor and friend Dr. Dunn, and my Grandpa whom none of knew would pass away five days later.

Hearing our pastor read passages from my Dad's Bible journal and glimpsing into his heart.

Reuniting with family members after too many years and knowing that Dad would be so very happy for us to be spending time together.

Seeing the large group of his Amazon co-workers arrive at the funeral all wearing tie-dyed company t-shirts.  We were later told that they knew Dad's favorite company shirt was the tie-dyed one.

Seeing the photos of Dad with his grandchildren, my brother Mike and I, and his wife, our Mom, on the screen while the song, "If You Could See Me Now" was sung.  We missed him terribly but our confident faith of where Dad was now sustained us through this horrible day.

After the funeral, all of the family in town plus some special friends came to our house for a lunch. The funeral was at 10 am and would be followed with the graveside service at 2 pm.  There was a hitch with the funeral home and so that's the way things ended up.  It worked very well as the break gave us all a chance to catch our breaths.  Matthew and I have hosted Thanksgiving meals, Sunday School parties, and other occasions when our house has been full.  That day there were a lot of voices but only one I desperately wanted to hear.  It broke my heart and still does knowing Dad's voice will not call to the kids or tell me hello in my house ever again.

The graveside service was brief but well said.  We wanted to keep it private so the time separation from the funeral was a blessing again.  I really don't remember much of the time there except for letting the balloon go afterwards.

While Dad spent his last few days in the palliative care hospital room, I wanted to bring some color to the room.  I stopped by the store and went in looking for a butterfly.  I found it and let it stay with Dad for the next day.  After he passed away, I brought it home but knew I couldn't keep it long as the memories were too hard.  The cemetery was where I would bring it.  At the close of the graveside service, I held the string but then told Philip to cut it above where I was holding.  The breeze caught the butterfly and it sailed upward.  We watched it fly for almost 10 minutes until it was no larger than a pinhead.  Symbolically for me, that was Dad's spirit flying to Jesus.

Dad's "butterfly"

Family dinner with our extended family from up north

Dad's casket at the visitation

Memories

Dad's Veteran's flag

Mike and I with cousin Jeff 

My oldest two at Papa's grave

The inscription on the casket vault

Beautiful sky displayed God's splendor

This is a stone in the prayer garden at Hatcher Gardens.

I'm glad I can share these memories with you.  Remembering is healing and I don't ever want to forget you, Dad!  I will always love you.