Dad didn’t take his impending departure too seriously. He scoffed at our concerns about leaving him unattended. ”So what if I die while you’re gone? It’s not like I’ll be there to complain about it. I’ll be with my Lord.”
I don’t want to give the impression that we don’t mourn his death, but we haven’t been spending all of our time moping about and fighting tears either. Tears come, of course, but they leave quickly – for me, at least. I don’t think Dad would be offended to know that his loved ones shared plenty of smiles and laughter over the past week. He made plenty of jokes at our expense while he was alive, and was the target of a few as well.
Last Wednesday when I arrived at the emergency room about 90 minutes after Dad, the first thing I heard was that my brother-in-law was on his way with pizza for all of us. The next thing I heard was my own brother quipping, “This is the weirdest place ever for a potluck!” It was a bright moment in a dark time, and we all needed the laugh.
A few hours later, we were assembling at another hospital where Dad had been moved. My new baby nephew had just arrived with his parents, and aunts who had never met him were smiling, laughing and cooing at his fat little cheeks.
Dad died that night, and the following day found his 4 sons hard at work digging Dad’s grave. They had rented a bulldozer for the occasion and must have found the work went more quickly than expected because they decided to dig Mom’s grave too. ”No pressure,” they assured her, chuckling. ”It’s just there when you need it.”
At Dad’s graveside service, 2 family dogs lolled about under the minister’s feet. They were very big but young and gangling and untrained. Before our eyes, they dug cool spots for themselves in the heap of dirt waiting to be shoveled over Dad’s casket and threatened to knock over the flowers or trip the minister when they flopped down next to him. There were snickers from every quarter.
Tomorrow is Dad’s memorial service. Our oldest brother will read his eulogy, a brief summary of a brief life. Later, there will be a time of sharing in which those who knew Dad will be invited to speak. I hope and expect that there will be a few more opportunities to laugh before we try to figure out what “normal life” looks like without Dad.
Dad was known for having “an abrasive personality,” a charge which he met with such surprise and denied with such vehemence that we could only assume he was making a joke at his own expense. I found myself wondering if anyone might show up at his memorial to settle old debts, so to speak. Would somebody be so crass as to speak ill of the dead? But this wouldn’t be such a bad way to remember Dad’s memorial service. He never minced words and might be just a little impressed and amused at anyone who had the gall to speak their mind at a time like that.
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My condolences to you. I’m praying for your family.
I appreciated your honesty in this post. I agree that it is good to speak the truth about the dead, even their abrasive qualities. I marvel at the sugar-coating we do about death, and how people who have died suddenly turn out to have had apparently perfect, bland personalities. Yes, it is wonderful to celebrate the good, but my feeling is that it takes the spice – and joy – out of life to pass by the jokes and even the abrasions.
I think I’d love to be part of your family. I think secretly we might just be related after all.
My dad also claimed shocked, even hurt surprise, when accused of being abrasive. But I always thought he did so with the faintest glimmer of a sardonic grin of self-awareness in the back of his eye.
I love reading your blog. I love your honesty and sense of humor. I am sorry for your family’s lose. My grandmother died a few months ago, and while of course there was great sorrow and tears, there was also great laughter as well. How can you not smile? Remembering how lovely there were, and also how excited we are to meet them again. God bless you.
What a beautiful thing, Kim, to share your loved one as he was and as he was loved by you all!
Trusting God’s Grace to sustain you all….
Blessings
Deanna
Kim, I am praying for your family. My Dad went to be with our Lord a few years ago, and it has taken a long time to settle into life without him here on Earth.
Be kind to yourself too xx
Sasha
Oh Kim, you made me laugh and cry at the same time!
I am so sorry for your loss.
Last friday was the funeral and the memorial service for my father, so your last posts touched my heart even more.
We laughed and cried, we talked about our dad, we enjoyed being together as a family. Someone watching us maybe would think, we are weird – laughing, telling Dad’s jokes. There was a wreath on the casket, the ribbon on it said:”We miss you. Your crazy family.” I don’t know what the people on the graveyard thought about this. I just think, I love this crazy family.
You are in my prayers.
Oh, sweet sweet family you have. But… isn’t an open grave sort of a hazard? She isn’t likely to need it for some time (I hope). Wouldn’t kids fall in or something? Deer, maybe?
Happy Elf Mom,
They covered the extra grave securely. I agree – an open hole of that size would be dangerous.
PS Sorry if I appear to be a “concern troll.” I just learnt about those and they are weird.
What a wonderful series of posts. I am sorry to hear that you will have to live life without your dad here on earth. I’m still surprised almost six years later at how many times I think, oh I should tell dad about that.
I’m also very glad to know that he is in heaven with Jesus. I think that really takes a big burden off of the death expereince for those left behind.
Blessings to your whole family.
I am sorry for your family’s loss, and pray that the Lord continues to comfort you all and that His joy will be your strength!
My husband and I seem to talk about death quite often. Lately, we’ve been discussing what our attitude should be towards it. After all, truly having a proper view of life includes a proper view of death, since death is a part of life. Morn, yes, we loved them and miss them. But we can’t stop living just because they have gone on to eternity. I appreciate your openness about death and how your family works with it!
The lightheartedness concerning your Dad’s burial is neat. I’m sure it makes the loss of their grandpa a little easier and not so fearful/strange to the younger children.
Thank you for sharing these last several posts, they have been a good encouragement. We’re praying for your family!
KIm, I am so sorry about the loss of your dear dad. I’m sure writing about him helps and you are doing a wonderful job of honoring him through words.
Thank you, Perry, and GOD BLESS as you comfort your lovely wife.
So sorry for the loss of your dad.
Reading your experiences has been a blessing to me. We have spent the last 5 days sitting by my grandmother’s bedside, pretty much waiting for her to die. It sounds so cold and harsh, but she has not had much quality of life for many months, and, even more importantly, has a beautiful eternity with her Savior waiting on her. So we are as much happy as we are sad. We have spent this week in a mixture of tears and much laughter as we all wait – with plenty of food, of course. I’m glad to know we are not the only family that lacks a consuming solemn reverence for the end of life in these bodies.
Again, sorry you have had to say goodbye-for-now to your dad, and thank you for such an honest post!
So sorry about the loss of your Dad. My mom has been gone a little over two years, but when she was alive she went to a hairdresser who was SO slow Mom would be in her salon for 3 1/2 hours for a perm and hairdo. At the funeral home the director asked who we would prefer to fix Mom’s hair, we told him the name of this hairdresser, and he said he would contact her. I said, “She’d better get started now!” which gave all of us the giggles and probably shocked the funeral director. But we sisters know that Mom was giggling with us and that someday we’ll all be laughing together again in Heaven. God bless you!
I’m sorry for your loss, Kim. Thanks for sharing your stories with us.
“So what if I die while you’re gone? It’s not like I’ll be there to complain about it. I’ll be with my Lord.”
What a beautiful message of Gospel for your Dad to leave you with before he left. My heart and prayers go out to your family as you wait to see your Dad again.
Blessings in Christ.
Hi Kim,
I am sorry if commenting on this brings up memories but I felt I had to after reading it. My dad passed away 7 years ago (very suddenly) March 22nd. It was obviously very heartbreaking (I was a real daddy’s girl) and I was getting married 5 months after which made even worse for me (although I do realise I was being very selfish!) Anyway the point of this essay is to say that even though that was the saddest week of my life it was also one of the most fun! It was lovely gathering all the family together (we are all very bad at being in the same place at the same time) exchaning stories about dad and laughing about his foibles. I remember when we were planning on what he was going to wear my younger brother pointed out that he would have to be wearing his white socks with his black shoes as it was a running joke in our house that no matter how smart dad dressed he always wore these awful white sports socks! The funeral itself was lovely and very personal although there were about 800 people there it did not feel like it. Everytime someone came up to tell a story we all started laughing just that bit harder! So whilst I am obviously very sorry for your loss I am also so pleased that in the middle of it you could all have a laugh and a giggle at the same time. Laughter and tears go very well together. I remember saying to Dad in the funeral home that I would see him later (thats what I always said to him when I went out, I never said goodbye) and I know that one day I will and you know that one day you will see your dad again. Thank you for sharing these posts during a very hard time and I hope that you are all healing and finding comfort in the fact he is with the lord now.
Thank you
Aileen xx
Aileen,
Thanks for sharing your own experience. It’s still hard for me to think about Dad and look at pictures of him – especially when he was healthier. I often find myself pushing away the thoughts and memories because I don’t want to remind myself of the pain of losing him. If I don’t think about him, it doesn’t hurt, so I try to wait until I can do it without the hurt. That sounds terrible, but maybe you understand? I’ve been meaning to add another post about him, but it’s hard to put all those emotions into words and I have no confidence that I will be able to do it properly.
I loved hearing about your dad’s white socks – what sweet memories. Was he buried in them?
Yes Dad was buried in his socks, it felt quite apt! I know exactly how you feel about not wanting to remember things until they stop hurting, I was exactly the same but eventually it does stop and you can remember it all. It still hurts but not quite the same. You also remember the bad times which I think is important because nobody is perfect and although I loved my dad deeply we also butted heads occasionally (I am very headstrong and my dad was the most placid man you can ever imagine!) and I like to remember that he was not perfect! One way that my family liked to remember him is by having a celidh every year close to his anniversary. A ceilidh is a Scottish dance where we play traditional music, do traditional dancing, drink whisky (quite a lot dependant on who you are) eat a lot and laugh. Over the last 7 years I think we raised about 30 or 40 thousand for vairous charities that were close to my dads heart. So something good came out of his death. When you are ready to write your posts about your dad I am sure myself along with all your other readers will be very interested to read them. Take care and if you are still at the beach I hope you are having a nice time xx