The layout was beautiful. A 16x20 photo of my dad...a close up of his face. And it was altered from an original picture of him holding ZoeJane as a newborn. It's one of my favorite pictures of him. There was an old bright orange skidder (tractor type thing....google is your friend with this one) that he's had since the 80's. It was always a staple in our house. He won it at a company party when he worked for a logging company and we've had it ever since. All the grandchildren (the boys, especially) have loved it. There was a smaller picture of dad, and some other pretties laid out, and in the middle...a perfect rectangle wooden box, holding what is left of my dad.
I kept looking at the big picture of him...looking at his eyes, imagining him giving me shit for being upset and nervous about speaking. And while the preacher was speaking, I kept looking at the box. After 69 years of life and learning, this is what it all comes down to: a simple wooden box.
I managed to make it through the service without crying. I started tearing up a few times listening to the preacher, but I was able to suck it up. My brother spoke and I was good....then I got up to speak and I thought I was going to cry just from facing the crowd, but I managed.
If you read my last post, I had prepared a well laid out eulogy for him...and I started out with what I had written, but quickly veered off track. I choked up three times, but was able to stop, take a breath...look at out the crowd for reassuring faces and keep going. I felt like I had to at least try. I never thought I'd make it through, but I knew I'd regret it if I didn't at least try.
I sat back down and everyone was shocked that I made it through. But then they started a slideshow. Against the Wind by Bob Segar started playing (a song that I know well, as a mix of Bob Segar and Tom Petty were the soundtrack of my childhood) and up pops pictures of my sweet daddy. Daddy with the grand kids, daddy with me, daddy back in his carefree days with his friends and when he was logging. Dayton started crying, and I lost it. They included a picture that I emailed to them of Phoenix's hand laying in his when Phoenix was about a week old. That broke me. I love daddy's hands. I always have.
After the slideshow, we (the family) left the room and had to stand in the hallway to receive people's condolences. People kept coming up to me telling me how great I did and how surprised they were. People seriously had no faith in me to get through it, and I think that's one of the reasons that I was able to. He would have told me to muscle through it just to spite them.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmrkY-EZy74
I love you, daddy.
No comments:
Post a Comment