It's been 3 1/2 months.
It feels a lot longer.
Weird as it may sound, I've been really looking forward to this. To a weekend with and centered around my family. To coming together to think of and honor my Dad after dealing with the loss individually and separately. A time to remember, to unite, to check-in without anyone else to worry about or comfort. A calm weekend without herses and speaches and sleepness nights and condolences. Finality. Closure.
We gathered at 10am in front of the newly placed headstone.
Daughter, Wife, Parents, Siblings (2 of 3--Nelly in from France, Eve away in Afghanastan), In-Laws, and baby Nephew.
Rays of sunshine bounced off blades of lush green grass, and a smooth breeze lightly brushed against a perfect blue sky.
The way this ceremony is conducted as members of the LDS Church is:
1. Address Heavenly Father.
2. State that he is acting by the authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood.
3. Dedicates and consecrates the burial plot as the resting place for the body of the deceased.
4. Prays that the place may be hallowed and protected until the Resurrection.
5. Asks the Lord to comfort the family and expresses thoughts as the Spirit directs.
6. Closes in the name of Jesus Christ.
It was lovely, and tearful, and complete.
A few days later, before returning to real life, I spent a quiet hour beneath the tree my Dad is buried in front of, paying private respects, drinking in the stillness, the calm, and the unique feeling of home that always befalls me in cemeteries. Inexplicably, I have loved them since I was a child, despite never knowing anyone inside. Even now that I do, it doesn't change a thing. Except that I have someone to talk to.
A few days later, before returning to real life, I spent a quiet hour beneath the tree my Dad is buried in front of, paying private respects, drinking in the stillness, the calm, and the unique feeling of home that always befalls me in cemeteries. Inexplicably, I have loved them since I was a child, despite never knowing anyone inside. Even now that I do, it doesn't change a thing. Except that I have someone to talk to.
1 comment:
i love that poem. its so true.... when we unite with our lost loves we will laugh at the silly sadness encountered when understanding what little time apart it actually was in the whole eternal scheme of things. they really are in the next room aren't they?
I like that your daddy was burried by a tree. i hope i am too.
love you mama.
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