Reflecting on Dad

It’s the morning of Dad’s funeral, early again as a good nights sleep has eluded me the past few nights. We spent yesterday evening pulling out items we wanted to display that reminded us of Dad. All of his Titan hats ranging back from when our oldest was twelve and playing baseball to the most recent lacrosse hat that I think he wore twice. A K-State t-shirt that was a birthday present. He loved his Wildcats. Some fraternity days items as we just found out he was the president of his chapter…twice. But the focal point will be a small table made from the wood of his Uncle’s barn where Dad worked during his summers.

There’s a frame made of the barnwood, too. In it are pictures of my middle son sawing (by hand) the pieces so they’d fit in the car, and a picture we took of Dad standing out in front of the old barn sharing another story. I remember presenting it and the table to Dad on Christmas in 2015. We were all so excited to give this labor of love to him. But the key component to this frame is a story written by my brother that is told from the perspective of the barn. It took three of us to push through the tears to read it to him. It starts with the old barn having a hard time seeing three individuals coming up the road, and then it recognizes Dad and starts reflecting on their history. It’s a beautiful story that completely tells an important story of Dad reflected in that barn. And it explains the table, a gift from the barn to my son to work his magic into something that will always connect all of us to Dad and the barn. So glad it’s being told at the funeral today.

I’m having seriously mixed emotions today about seeing Dad in his final resting place. My last memory of him was him laying in bed and slowly drifting off. It was beautiful and so filled with dignity, which is all I ever wanted for him as he fought Parkinson’s. I pray for me and I pray for my family to have the strength to get past that initial look and hopefully be flooded with memories of the greatest man we’ve ever known. I pray for those who can’t make it today. Your love will be felt from a distance.

I wish Mom peace today as she starts this new chapter in her life. We will all be there to help her write it, but we know it won’t be easy. I can’t imagine how hard it is to say goodbye to the love of your life for 50 plus years. But I’m sure Dad will help her continue her story. He’s already shown up in the form of a beautiful red cardinal, enjoying a snack just outside the window the other day.

“Do not cry my children as you stand by my grave. I have danced your memories all of my days. I will go now and pray as I travel this land and live by the lessons you gave.”