My Dad’s memorial is today and I’m sitting here in his kitchen procrastinating on getting ready. I have the notes for my speech all written up, I’m trying to sate the butterflies in my stomach with sour gummy snacks (it’s not working), and I’m watching my husband and brother watch a program on UFO’s in the living room.
It’s the kind of program my Dad would have loved.
He passed away Thursday night. My brother and I were there, holding his hands, and when he was gone I smoothed his hair back to the way he liked to wear it and closed his eyes. Being here in his kitchen, knowing he’s not going to just come down from his room ready for the next adventure is surreal. I was there when he passed, but the fact that he’s gone hasn’t sunk in.
He was a good man. The best, really. Quiet, quirky, moral, and skilled, he made his way through life with confidence in who he was. He never apologized for being so quiet, or for enjoying the things he enjoyed. He loved watching birds, sailing, and working with his hands. He was marvelously talented, and he had the best sense of humor of almost anyone I know.
We’re going to miss him, and I have the feeling that the next year will be filled with moments when I wish he were there. He was really excited to be a grandfather, and I have the feeling that when Squishy is born I’ll wish more than ever he were still around to meet him/her.
We take comfort in knowing he lived a very full, very good life. We smile to know that he lives on through us, in our ridiculous senses of humor, our appreciation for nature, our skills with woodworking and cooking. We’ll miss him, but we’ll also celebrate him.