(In another time and place)
My husband bent over me as he spoke.? I was stunned.? My body sank deeper into the couch.? He was holding on to my arms as though he didn’t want me to slip away.? He’d just told me that I’d lost my Dad.? My father , one of my greatest treasures, had passed away that morning.
Our living room was warm with sunshine that day in April.? I was cold.? I felt like I was turning to stone, except for my mind.? It was clicking away – we need to go home right away – need to get someone to watch the house and pets.? How shall we tell our little ones about their grandfather?? Have to be strong for mother.
Click; click; the thoughts tumbled on and on.? Actually, two people were there – the one with the clicking mind, and the one somewhere inside of me saying, “You will deal with me in due time.”? No tears, just click, click… I need to pack.
We lived in Ephrata, Washington about 60 miles from my family home, in Othello, Washington.? Going home was something we did often, for holidays and other special times.? One of my brothers lived in the same community, the other in Red Bluff, California.? In a short time all three of us and our families were there with mother.
We all visited Daddy in the funeral parlor, I hadn’t viewed much death. It was some miles away in Ritzville.? Mother seemed much calmer after that visit.? However, the next day, my brother, Gene, asked Hike and I, if we’d like to go back again, just the three of us.? I was so pleased, as I felt so incomplete when I left the funeral home the day before.
We each went in alone, with the understanding that we could stay as long as we wanted.? The boys went in first, then I followed.? Odd, as I think about it now – in the order that we were born.
I stood over his casket and looked at him for a long time.? He had that soft smile on his face I’d see so many times.
For twenty seven years his gentle ways had influenced me.? As I grew our association became one of undemanding love and mutual respect.? I’d never had any desire to defy or hurt him in any way.? I was glad there was no reason for saying “I’m sorry.”
I felt as though he knew I was there.? It was a good time, but I left there saying to myself, “Why?”? I was so very young, and he was only sixty-three.? I felt cheated out of the years we could have had.? I didn’t blame God or anyone else.? I just wanted to know why.? Still no tears.
Time went on and routine took over my life again.? One day in November, as I moved about the house, preparing things to go home for Thanksgiving holiday.? “Why” began to pester my mind, again.? This happened often.
Suddenly, it was as if I could hear my father, saying, “Enough, there is no why — death happens.? I’m alright and so are you.? Cry and wash away the hurt – strength comes from peace, too.”? For the first time, I cried- gentle tears softly rolling down my face.? It felt so good.? I realized I was dealing with that other me.? The part that had needed attention for so long.? When I finished, I felt such relief – drained and at peace for the first time after his death in April.??
Since that day in November, I have never been without him.? If I listen, when I need him, he is there.? He left me, not a legacy of money, but a legacy of pure love.