Dad
I'm still reeling a little from the death of my father. I was really looking forward to spending more time with him. Even though his Alzheimers' made it increasingly impossible to have any kind of meaningful conversations, I was going to try to be more connected to my family, and take on some of the caregiving burden. That all changed when he passed away on December 23.
Jeff and I were almost en route to the Island for Christmas with my family when Mom called in tears. We were able to get to the ferry and to the hospital very quickly. His nurses laid him out in his bed, so I was able to see him one last time. He looked waxen and unreal - not like the Dad I knew. His face had changed so much in the time he had spent in hospital since he broke his hip in October. Mom and Clay waited until I got there and we viewed him together. We said our goodbyes and we played him some Dixieland to send him on his way - just like they'd do in New Orleans in the funeral processions.
We interred his ashes in New Westminster, at Fraserview Cemetery, on January 7th. When Dad's mom was buried a few years ago, he stated then that he wanted to be there too, when it was his time. This was the last he said on the subject. When it came time to look into arrangements for his burial, Mom remembered what he had said, and called the cemetery. There was unfortunately no room for him to be buried there - no provision had been made by the family when his father was buried in 1941. Dad's mom was buried in the same cemetery, but quite a ways apart from her former husband's grave. Dad had been estranged from his mother for a long time - since the start of Dad's relationship with my Mom, actually. We had to come to a decision to either bury him somewhere else, possibly on the Island, or inter his ashes by his father's grave. There was space at the gravesite for 5 members of the same family, so Mom ordered a beautiful stone slab with engraving to match his dad's headstone. We held a small family service for him, with remembrances by three of the five children and by my Mom. We laid white roses on the spot where his ashes will rest forever. There is a beautiful view of the Fraser River, and the Port Mann Bridge is in the distance. After the service, we gathered at Julie's place in PoCo for some food and drink and more memories of Dad. I made a slideshow of photos with a couple of Dixieland tracks as background music, which everyone enjoyed. Jeff, Clay and I also put together a memorial CD of Dad's music and everyone attending got a copy.
I'm in much closer contact with Mom now, and we talk a little about Dad from time to time. I know it will get easier, and that it will take a long time before it does. There are some days when I feel the loss very keenly, and others when I can carry on as if nothing had happened. I haven't been back to his grave since January 7, and I will, but I just can't yet. When I do, I'll bring him a white rose and sit with him for a while, listen to some music and look at the view.
I love you, Dad. I miss you so much.
Where are you now,
Where did you go,
When the body is left behind and the spirit is released to fly?
Perhaps you are the morning bird singing joyfully at sunrise,
or the butterfly that dances so carelessly on the breeze
or the rainbow of colors that brightens a stormy sky
or the fingers of afternoon mist delicately reaching over the mountains
or the final few rays of the setting sun lighting up the skies edging the clouds with a magical glow.
I miss your being but I feel your presence,
In whatever form you choose to take,
however you now choose to be.
Your spirit has become for me a guardian angel on high guiding, advising, and watching over me.
I remember you.
You are with me and I am not afraid.
Jeff and I were almost en route to the Island for Christmas with my family when Mom called in tears. We were able to get to the ferry and to the hospital very quickly. His nurses laid him out in his bed, so I was able to see him one last time. He looked waxen and unreal - not like the Dad I knew. His face had changed so much in the time he had spent in hospital since he broke his hip in October. Mom and Clay waited until I got there and we viewed him together. We said our goodbyes and we played him some Dixieland to send him on his way - just like they'd do in New Orleans in the funeral processions.
We interred his ashes in New Westminster, at Fraserview Cemetery, on January 7th. When Dad's mom was buried a few years ago, he stated then that he wanted to be there too, when it was his time. This was the last he said on the subject. When it came time to look into arrangements for his burial, Mom remembered what he had said, and called the cemetery. There was unfortunately no room for him to be buried there - no provision had been made by the family when his father was buried in 1941. Dad's mom was buried in the same cemetery, but quite a ways apart from her former husband's grave. Dad had been estranged from his mother for a long time - since the start of Dad's relationship with my Mom, actually. We had to come to a decision to either bury him somewhere else, possibly on the Island, or inter his ashes by his father's grave. There was space at the gravesite for 5 members of the same family, so Mom ordered a beautiful stone slab with engraving to match his dad's headstone. We held a small family service for him, with remembrances by three of the five children and by my Mom. We laid white roses on the spot where his ashes will rest forever. There is a beautiful view of the Fraser River, and the Port Mann Bridge is in the distance. After the service, we gathered at Julie's place in PoCo for some food and drink and more memories of Dad. I made a slideshow of photos with a couple of Dixieland tracks as background music, which everyone enjoyed. Jeff, Clay and I also put together a memorial CD of Dad's music and everyone attending got a copy.
I'm in much closer contact with Mom now, and we talk a little about Dad from time to time. I know it will get easier, and that it will take a long time before it does. There are some days when I feel the loss very keenly, and others when I can carry on as if nothing had happened. I haven't been back to his grave since January 7, and I will, but I just can't yet. When I do, I'll bring him a white rose and sit with him for a while, listen to some music and look at the view.
I love you, Dad. I miss you so much.
Where are you now,
Where did you go,
When the body is left behind and the spirit is released to fly?
Perhaps you are the morning bird singing joyfully at sunrise,
or the butterfly that dances so carelessly on the breeze
or the rainbow of colors that brightens a stormy sky
or the fingers of afternoon mist delicately reaching over the mountains
or the final few rays of the setting sun lighting up the skies edging the clouds with a magical glow.
I miss your being but I feel your presence,
In whatever form you choose to take,
however you now choose to be.
Your spirit has become for me a guardian angel on high guiding, advising, and watching over me.
I remember you.
You are with me and I am not afraid.