I buried my father this week. He died on 1/1/09 from a heart attack. My week was filled will running here and there going to appointments and making phone calls. Making sure everything came together for a proper memorial.
My week was also peppered with different people sharing their thoughts and memories of my dad. I will never forget watching my brother's face light up when the Pastor asked us to share some memories of my father. My brother smiled and told many stories. I sat mostly in silence. My brother spent his spare time preparing some thoughts he wanted to share at the funeral. I had nothing to share.
After my brother shared what he had prepared, the pastor asked if anyone else would like to share anything. Many did. His best friend from childhood flew all the way from Texas to be there. I had cousins come in from Arizona and So Cal. There were many people present. There were many cards and flowers sent. Loads of food delivered to my mother's home.
This was all very good for me to witness. I have been so focused on all the mistakes my dad has made and all the shitty things he has done to his family that I had forgotten that there was any good at all in my dad. But there was. I'm glad he is at rest. My heart grieves more for my mother and my brother than for any myself. I don't feel like I lost much. He didn't have much to give me. I am glad to know that there were some things about his life to be proud of though.
I love being a wife and a mother to two amazing people. I just ran my first marathon in 2007. I really wish I could travel more. Germany is at the top of the list of course. I love people and I really love hearing their stories...everybody has one.