The Makers
It's surreal still. Planning a funeral while grieving our father's death has created a dimension that we've never seen before. For hours at a time, blocking it out is the easiest thing to do. But when you're blocking out the pain with the funeral card you're making, the lines begin to blur. At one point, the words are just that - words. 5 minutes later, when you begin really understanding the letters typed out across the page, you can't help but to break down. I thought I'd have 40 years to prepare for days like these. I don't. We don't. It's upon us now, and we're doing the very best we know how. Each of us are using our own specific talents to put together a service for my father that would make him so very proud. Yesterday, Adam began creating my dad's one-of-a-kind baseball card. It's romantic really. It's ironic. It's beautiful. Dad collected so many of Adam's cards. And now, Adam is making one for Dad.
(See that book in the bottom right corner? That's Saturday Nothing. That's the last book my dad ever read. You should read it. Go to Amazon.com and purchase one. Pretty please?)
And talk about talents being used...Hunter made us all dinner last night! Well, ok, he just browned some of the meat and stirred some of the sour cream. Did I mention that he's only TWO?! What a stud! He loves cooking and "stir-stir-stirring!" In times of despair, it's beautiful little faces like his that bring about such an overwhelming amount of joy and hope.
A much-needed laughing session took place last night in front of my tiny computer screen. When wobbly voices and tear-streaked faces are the norm, laughter is a welcomed friend. We laughed and laughed for hours together. And when I thought all the giggles had subsided, I took a look at Joey in this picture and couldn't help but to laugh again! :)
No comments:
Post a Comment