SAYING GOODNIGHT …

Last week, we had a graveside service for Dad and laid his earthly body to rest.

This is a raw, grievous time for me. I choose to share though, because I know several of you have lost loved ones in the last few months. You are not alone: the grief journey comes to all of us sooner or later. As hard as we fight against it or wish it away, it eventually comes.

I ask myself questions like: I knew it would happen, so why wasn’t I better prepared? Even though Dad encouraged me not to grieve but celebrate, why does grief overtake me? Why is my heart shattered when Dad filled me with love? Why doesn’t life prepare all of us better for death? Death is a given. Why does it never become commonplace? I have the hope of eternity and seeing Dad (&Mom) again. Why won’t my brain focus better on the future instead of the loss?

These questions and others circle like a tilt-a-wheel at a carnival, making me tipsy and off-centered. Life has changed. Why is finding a “new normal” so hard?

The sorrow and grief overtake the best of us. Getting our mindset to correlate with our hopes and beliefs seems out of our control. Our bodies seem to take over and overtake us. One minute thankful for the life we shared, the next flattened with sadness.

Time is fleeting, we all know that, but when I stand graveside, the brevity consumes me leaving me wishing/wanting more.

It was a cold, blustery morning, whipping and chilling us. Half of me longed for these moments to say goodbye, the other half loathed it.

Immediate family gathered to honor our Dad, Pappy, and Brother. It was the way he wanted it. No grand affair, no large crowd drawing attention. He got his wish for a small number, but we definitely drew attention on that windy hilltop to his importance and fundamental impact on all of us! He was no small contributor: he was our firm foundation.

So many sweet memories and stories, even one of his favorite jokes and songs he sang to all of us. Scriptures of comfort were read and his favorite hymn sung. We smiled, even laughed and wiped tears. Emotions covered the gamut.

Seven of Dad’s Great Grandchildren were present from 24 yrs. to 6 months in age. Dad (& Mom) would have loved this. In some way, I can’t explain. Maybe they knew. If heavenly ears can hear, they heard their sweet voices filling our space with murmurs of hope, love and even joy! We all loved and cherished their presence; welcomed it! Most of them knew him and this will be their first memory of losing a loved one. Their presence honored his great love for them. They brought him so much joy!

One of my three-year-old grands, Justice. Had a little to say as the service was starting …

My husband (Papa to his grands) was presiding over the service. As he walked upfront and stood behind the lectern to begin. From where he sat, Precious Justice said in his little voice, “You do your best, Papa!”

Melt my heart!! Papa was struggling to say goodbye to his beloved Father-In-Law too!

I know Dad would have loved Justice’s tender encouragement and probably would have told the story to many. Dad was a story gatherer: he passed it on to several of us. Maybe even me😉.

Hearts resist saying goodbye. Our mouths utter it: our hearts fight intensely against it!

Love is endless. It doesn’t stop like heartbeats. It continues on even in absence. Leaving it unexpressed is foreign. Sometimes it wells up so strong that it leaks through eyes, spilling onto cheeks, falling to the ground. It is the outward evidence of a heart filled with love. We sorrow because we miss them being present in our everyday. We weep trying to express the great love we share.

On a windy hilltop, we declared our love, devotion, respect, and thankfulness for Dad. We did our best, it felt insufficient. How can you sum up a lifetime of love and care in a few spoken words?

It’s impossible!

Our deep love for him was among us and illustrated by our presence and wishes to honor him; his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren gathering to say goodnight to his aged body.

For now, we weep …

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” Psalm 30:5

Our great joy will be seeing you in the morning, Dad!!!

If you are traveling the journey of grief or loss, I’d be honored to pray for you!
Leave a comment below.
You are not alone!

Love You Dad,