"Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die."
-->Mary Elizabeth Frye
This was the poem read at my father's memorial service. These were the only words that came to mind for him. It's pretty terrible that in all the years I have spent with my father and all of the memories I shared with him this was all I could come up with for his service. I lost so much when he died. Even though it sounds really cliche, he was my best friend.
The first month and a half I was in Colorado dealing with his estate I kept dialing his number to talk with him about what happened. It was just so natural for me to dial those numbers. It wasn't until the 'send' button was pushed that I would realize I was calling him in vain. You can't call the person you are mourning. It just doesn't work that way.
During that time I left his cremains in my car. Part of me felt awful for leaving him out in the cold like that, but it was easier to tell people that my father was out in the car than to actually deal with my loss. Really I still haven't dealt with it. My time in Colorado was a constant fight to keep my emotions in check in order to get the business side of dad's estate and grandma's trust finished. There were many, many bumps in the road.
Great Uncle Fred died 01/08/11 (grandma's older brother).
Grandma died 01/15/11.
Aunt Carol died 11/16/11 (dad's older sister).
Dad died 11/17/11.
Part of me wonders if there was some kind of family curse.
A week before dad died he called and asked to send some money for B's birthday. When I told him he didn't need to do that he told me that he wanted to because he wanted B to know that he loves him. With all that B and I have been through, with everything that has happened...he loved my husband still. Words cannot even describe what that means to me. He was truely a remarkable man. The kind that surprises people because his strength sneaks up on you. He was the silent strength that you don't expect.
Dad had a really difficult life. My life looks like sunshine and rainbows compared to the life he lived and yet he never complained. He never complained about his health, feelings, or how people treated him (which I have come to find out wasn't very good). He just had a whole lot of love to give. I really don't know how I am going to live my life without him in it. Dad was a huge part of my life.
There are no pictures of him with Izzy. I guess that's what I get for being bad about taking pictures. He and grandma were so proud of her. They just loved her so much. It breaks my heart knowing that she will never know how wonderful they were. That is a true tragedy.
I scattered his ashes on January 29, 2012. It is truely amazing how unstable emotions can make your body no matter how well you push down the emotions. Carrying the ashes in the bag to the spot where I was going to spread them was quite difficult. My legs felt like someone elses.
A friend of mine went with me and he is now where he wanted to be.
My only prayer is that he has finally found the peace that he deserves.
And me? Maybe in time I will be okay. But not today.
B is doing really well. Today he is more like the man I married. There are some definite scars he bares, but he now treats me the way he used to...before the injuries and PTSD took over. I am so proud of the progress he has made and the immense effort he puts into his everyday life. He is a very special man, and I am blessed to call him my husband. February 24, 2012 will be the last day of his Army career, but he will always be a Soldier.
Somehow God will provide.
Thanks for listenin.
