Blondie
~*~*~*~<br><font color=blue>This TF always enjoys
- Joined
- Aug 18, 1999
- Messages
- 17,306
How can you sum up 75 years of a mans life in just 24 hours? And why are we expected to do so when we lose a loved one?
I just experienced one of the worst times in my life, the loss of my dear father.
I doesnt seem fair or right that in just a days time we are supposed to do the meet and greet at a funeral home while people come to pay their respects, all the while those he left behind are literally breaking down inside. Yet this is how we treat something called a death in the family. We hug one another and try to convince ourselves that he is no longer suffering and in pain, that he is in a better place.
The worst came when I first walked in and seen him in the coffin. We were able to touch his hands, stroke his baby soft hair, lightly caress his face. He was so cold to the touch, yet still so life like. I expected to see his chest rise and fall as one does when breathing. Some might think it morbid to want to touch someone laying in a coffin, but it was something I had to do. It was my last chance to touch him.
The second most emotional moment was the 7 Naval Officers who were present for the military honors burial, the saluting done between the Officers, the folding of the American flag that draped his coffin and was given to my mother, the 21 gun salute. It was like I was watching a movie, that this couldn't be for my father.
Then just when I thought it couldn't get any more emotional, one of them began playing Taps by bugle. I don't think I'll ever hear it in the same tone again.
So many emotions, so many tears.....my poor mom.
As we drove a way, the officers were standing tall in a line saluting us all.
I saw his V-Tech denim shirt hanging up on the door frame in my mom's living room when we got back and I asked her if I could have it. It was waiting there for when he was to be discharged home. I bought it for him for Father's Day last year and it was well worn. I pulled it off the hanger and immediately smelled it to see if there was any scent of him left, but there wasn't. It had been washed recently.
Now all I have left are memories, and his shirt that is hanging on the back of the chair I'm sitting in right now.
I just experienced one of the worst times in my life, the loss of my dear father.
I doesnt seem fair or right that in just a days time we are supposed to do the meet and greet at a funeral home while people come to pay their respects, all the while those he left behind are literally breaking down inside. Yet this is how we treat something called a death in the family. We hug one another and try to convince ourselves that he is no longer suffering and in pain, that he is in a better place.
The worst came when I first walked in and seen him in the coffin. We were able to touch his hands, stroke his baby soft hair, lightly caress his face. He was so cold to the touch, yet still so life like. I expected to see his chest rise and fall as one does when breathing. Some might think it morbid to want to touch someone laying in a coffin, but it was something I had to do. It was my last chance to touch him.
The second most emotional moment was the 7 Naval Officers who were present for the military honors burial, the saluting done between the Officers, the folding of the American flag that draped his coffin and was given to my mother, the 21 gun salute. It was like I was watching a movie, that this couldn't be for my father.
Then just when I thought it couldn't get any more emotional, one of them began playing Taps by bugle. I don't think I'll ever hear it in the same tone again.
So many emotions, so many tears.....my poor mom.
As we drove a way, the officers were standing tall in a line saluting us all.
I saw his V-Tech denim shirt hanging up on the door frame in my mom's living room when we got back and I asked her if I could have it. It was waiting there for when he was to be discharged home. I bought it for him for Father's Day last year and it was well worn. I pulled it off the hanger and immediately smelled it to see if there was any scent of him left, but there wasn't. It had been washed recently.
Now all I have left are memories, and his shirt that is hanging on the back of the chair I'm sitting in right now.
