My father died in his sleep on the morning of Friday, January 30th, 2009. He was 83. We buried him on a windy, chilly, and bright Louisiana day at noon. The last weeks of his life were hard for him. And, he knew that his earthly sojourn was nearing the end. The apostle Paul's thoughts were on his mind - longing to go and be with the Lord and be free from the suffering and yet wanting to stay.
The trip from Illinois to Louisiana was eventful - we were clueless about the ice storm in southern Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, Kentucky, and Tennessee. There was no power for miles and miles - meaning there were no hotels, restaurants, and at least for a while, gas stations operating. All of our plans had to change. The funeral visitation was long for us, but short by Louisiana standards. It started at 2:00 P.M. on Sunday afternoon and ended at 7:30 P.M. Some people came and stayed for the entire time. It was exhausting and exhilarating. I have never lived near family. It was so good to see them and feel a sense of kinship with them. The funeral service was what my Dad had wanted. The pastor did a good job summarizing his life and the special music was fitting. Because of the setting, we walked from the church to the graveyard preceded by the hearse and followed by guests. Because Dad was retired military, the honor guard from Barksdale Air Force Base was present. They served as pallbearers in the graveyard, folded the flag, gave a gun salute, and played taps. They were young enlisted men and it was very moving. I told them that my Dad would have been honored and pleased. We buried him beside my mother and walked back to the church for a delicious, albeit bittersweet meal.
And now. And now it is strange. Waves of sadness drift over me at odd times. It is hard for me to think of him as dead. The face of the man in the casket did not look like my Dad. It was the face of a very old, very thin, and very tired man. I still think of my father as robust. He was always strong. We will miss his phone calls, his weather reports, his expertise - in everything. He taught me to drive, to hunt, to be patient, to use tools. He was generous. Not perfect. He had a temper, felt compelled to tell everyone how to live their lives, was nosey, and could cuss a blue streak when stirred. He read little, was awarded by the Air Force for his public speaking ability, and refused to fly because of all he had seen through his work. He was a good father. I knew he loved me and was proud of me and sought to encourage me.
We are now dealing with the stuff he left behind. Some of it packed with memories, some of it mysterious. He had $18.00 stuffed in a sandwich bag in his safe. The origin and purpose of it gone with him. The sun has set on his life. Another tie binding me to this world has been broken. More and more people I love are in heaven.
Anticipation builds.
The trip from Illinois to Louisiana was eventful - we were clueless about the ice storm in southern Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, Kentucky, and Tennessee. There was no power for miles and miles - meaning there were no hotels, restaurants, and at least for a while, gas stations operating. All of our plans had to change. The funeral visitation was long for us, but short by Louisiana standards. It started at 2:00 P.M. on Sunday afternoon and ended at 7:30 P.M. Some people came and stayed for the entire time. It was exhausting and exhilarating. I have never lived near family. It was so good to see them and feel a sense of kinship with them. The funeral service was what my Dad had wanted. The pastor did a good job summarizing his life and the special music was fitting. Because of the setting, we walked from the church to the graveyard preceded by the hearse and followed by guests. Because Dad was retired military, the honor guard from Barksdale Air Force Base was present. They served as pallbearers in the graveyard, folded the flag, gave a gun salute, and played taps. They were young enlisted men and it was very moving. I told them that my Dad would have been honored and pleased. We buried him beside my mother and walked back to the church for a delicious, albeit bittersweet meal.
And now. And now it is strange. Waves of sadness drift over me at odd times. It is hard for me to think of him as dead. The face of the man in the casket did not look like my Dad. It was the face of a very old, very thin, and very tired man. I still think of my father as robust. He was always strong. We will miss his phone calls, his weather reports, his expertise - in everything. He taught me to drive, to hunt, to be patient, to use tools. He was generous. Not perfect. He had a temper, felt compelled to tell everyone how to live their lives, was nosey, and could cuss a blue streak when stirred. He read little, was awarded by the Air Force for his public speaking ability, and refused to fly because of all he had seen through his work. He was a good father. I knew he loved me and was proud of me and sought to encourage me.
We are now dealing with the stuff he left behind. Some of it packed with memories, some of it mysterious. He had $18.00 stuffed in a sandwich bag in his safe. The origin and purpose of it gone with him. The sun has set on his life. Another tie binding me to this world has been broken. More and more people I love are in heaven.
Anticipation builds.
1 comment:
We are very sorry for your loss. Aren't you glad you had him for a good long time? I'm sure you will miss him for the rest of your life.
- Larry and Linda
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