I have a bunch of ideas for my monthly fear challenges but they haven't been slotted into any particular month, just waiting for their place. One idea was public speaking (I hate public speaking) and I had been talking to Ben about how on Earth I would make that happen - soap box in the middle of town? When Dad died, it made sense this would be my April fear. So many others fears this month that I hadn't even contemplated. Having someone, who potentially loves you the most in the World, simply vanish hadn't crossed my radar and obviously, I'm glad it didn't, the impact in the moment and the aftermath was grand enough for my little heart.
After Dad's funeral on Tuesday, the director came over and told me that they film each ceremony and that my tribute was lovely and that I should watch it. I've only watched a little, so hard to watch on a bunch of levels but I'm popping up the link and the access code for anyone else to watch and I'll post my actually words below as well. I practiced with Ben the days before. At first it was hard to read and then it was easy and at the funeral it was impossibly hard. I know I did the best I could. I left the funeral with a strange sense of happiness, knowing it was a great send off for Dad. It wasn't sad seeing his body going into the ground, it's the space between his spirit and me that creates a lingering sadness, although I feel him close, I'd love him closer. I'm moving forward with all the practical things that need to be done following a death, it keeps the heart from wallowing and grows the spirit, or at least that's what I'm hoping for.
(click on 'live stream' under 'service venue')
PIN: 7588
MY WORDS:
my
face tells my chest
tells
my heart that sadness
is
coming and we hunker down
together
as the wave of grief
moves
through and vanishes and
comes
back around again.
Dad's optimism travels through my soul, it tells me tomorrow is another day, another day to be generous and kind, strong, forgiving, courageous, to see the humour and use my Harding brain. I feel his warmth.
The clouds and the sky following dad's
death were hauntingly beautiful, they changed colour and tempo and
just when the sun has decided to stay, the rain fell heavily from the
sky as a gesture to honour my inner dialogue. Angels in clouds and
rainbows upon rainbows and a smoke detector going off in the middle
of the night that we renamed the ghost alarm.
I sat on the patio that night, the
night I found out dad had passed, it was so still and I searched for
the stars. If I managed to not let my mind wander and just feel the
moment, it was incredibly peaceful and the convos I had with Dad were
reassuring and beautiful. He didn't want to leave, he reminds me to
do my daily tasks, he's so happy about the house and he tells me I
have spirits all around me. I always thought that would be
incredibly scary but it isn't because I'm not actually 100% in the
world myself. I'm trapped by choice, in a place that isn't the
happiness of the past nor the future riddled with absence. I talk
with Ben who lives in the future and he tells me he will keep
offering me life lines and it's okay if I don't accept them. I
finally agree to a bowl of icecream. I haven't been eating and I'm
not even sure I like icecream but Ben has loaded it up with peanut
butter and chocolate goo and I eat it and it makes me happy.
Things I know that are true.
Dad didn't want to leave
He left peacefully
He left peacefully
His physical heart had reached the
end
His spirituality gifted him protection
His spirituality gifted him protection
He was so happy, so happy.
He loved loved loved loved Andrew,
Matty, J and myself
and he wasn't ready to leave us
Thank-you Dad for your kindness that
wraps around me so tightly offering protection and guidance.
Thank-you for reaching out your hand to me and taking me on an
adventure that saw me seek a deeper kindness and a capability to
tackle mountains that I wasn't sure my body was ready for. Thank-you
for sharing my hobbies and geeking out with me and gifting me your
time, your spirit, love and joy and knowledge.
Life's wheels didn't just fall off when
you left, my whole universe vanished beneath me. Dad gave me so much
in the physical world that it still remains with me and helps me get
up on days I don't want to. I'm forever grateful to have been gifted
such a wonderful dad who showed me the joy in the moment, right now.
You're lovely dad and I love you and I
miss you.
