I Love You Daddy
We buried my dad on Tuesday.
It was a sunny day without too much wind. A military honor guard was there. My dad served in Korea. He was a gunner in a tank. He never spoke about his service too much (although he and Husband would speak of this shared experience), just that he was glad when his army days were over. Husband told me about what it's like to be a gunner in a tank.
He had been hospitalized before Christmas with congestive heart failure and seemed to be making improvements but his BP plummeted during a dialysis treatment and they were not able to revive him. I am so glad that I was able to get here within 24 hours of hearing the news and not across the country.
I happened to be home for lunch and a little nudge kept telling me to call home, so I did. My mother answered and told me what had happened and then I called Husband but ended up having to leave a message for him on his cell phone. I went back to work only because there was no point in staying home - I needed something to do. I told the GM and he told me take as much time as I needed, etc. The biggest hurdle was waiting to be contacted by the Red Cross. My sister had to call them so they could call Husband's unit so he could get emergency leave. That's just the process but fortunately, once the unit got the message, things moved very quickly.
The grief is still profound. It's so hard seeing something of his and realizing he won't need it anymore. I take solace in that he is no longer in pain. At the wake, a nun approached me. I was telling her that he died on Epiphany (or Little Christmas, the day associated with the Three Wise Men reaching the manger) and I said surely that anyone who died during Christmas would be in heaven quickly and as I was telling her this, her face lit up. I thought she liked my theology but she had something better to say. She said, "Oh, he had his own epiphany and he got to see the face of God revealed to him!" I cannot tell you how many times I have thought of this and how it has comforted me during these last few days.
Our sorrow has been shared by so many. Those who came and sat with us at the wake, others who sent flowers and still others who sent food over. I never realized how many people were touched my dad. Even his mechanic came to the wake. But what I learned was that sorrow shared is sorrow diminished and maybe the next few days, weeks and months will be a little easier knowing that I am not travelling alone on my path of sorrows.
We put a few things in his coffin -- things that he'd like to have for eternity, no doubt. But nestled against his arm was the foul ball my sister had caught at a Mets game with a simple inscription. I love you Daddy.
It was a sunny day without too much wind. A military honor guard was there. My dad served in Korea. He was a gunner in a tank. He never spoke about his service too much (although he and Husband would speak of this shared experience), just that he was glad when his army days were over. Husband told me about what it's like to be a gunner in a tank.
He had been hospitalized before Christmas with congestive heart failure and seemed to be making improvements but his BP plummeted during a dialysis treatment and they were not able to revive him. I am so glad that I was able to get here within 24 hours of hearing the news and not across the country.
I happened to be home for lunch and a little nudge kept telling me to call home, so I did. My mother answered and told me what had happened and then I called Husband but ended up having to leave a message for him on his cell phone. I went back to work only because there was no point in staying home - I needed something to do. I told the GM and he told me take as much time as I needed, etc. The biggest hurdle was waiting to be contacted by the Red Cross. My sister had to call them so they could call Husband's unit so he could get emergency leave. That's just the process but fortunately, once the unit got the message, things moved very quickly.
The grief is still profound. It's so hard seeing something of his and realizing he won't need it anymore. I take solace in that he is no longer in pain. At the wake, a nun approached me. I was telling her that he died on Epiphany (or Little Christmas, the day associated with the Three Wise Men reaching the manger) and I said surely that anyone who died during Christmas would be in heaven quickly and as I was telling her this, her face lit up. I thought she liked my theology but she had something better to say. She said, "Oh, he had his own epiphany and he got to see the face of God revealed to him!" I cannot tell you how many times I have thought of this and how it has comforted me during these last few days.
Our sorrow has been shared by so many. Those who came and sat with us at the wake, others who sent flowers and still others who sent food over. I never realized how many people were touched my dad. Even his mechanic came to the wake. But what I learned was that sorrow shared is sorrow diminished and maybe the next few days, weeks and months will be a little easier knowing that I am not travelling alone on my path of sorrows.
We put a few things in his coffin -- things that he'd like to have for eternity, no doubt. But nestled against his arm was the foul ball my sister had caught at a Mets game with a simple inscription. I love you Daddy.
posted by G.E. at
9:41 AM
1 Comments:
the foul ball made me sad, what a beautiful wedding picture, your parents looked so nice :) I couldnt go the next day it wouldve been too sad :( even though my Nana was a pain at times the hardest thing was to see the coffin being lowered into the ground, I still cant shake the image of it going down.........I am so sorry :( you have a very cool Dad :) he will be missed
By
Monica, at 11:20 PM
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