It’s amazing to me the things we remember about important events-the things that touch us the most that stay with us forever.
Today at the funeral I am not sure I will ever forget the somberness of the church and the echo rattle of the music playing-his favorite song.
The simplicity of the service and the sheer beauty of it-that spelled out exactly who he was and what he stood for. The sense of who he was.
The way his eldest son stood at the front of the visitation line and welcomed all the hundreds of guests with a gentle smile and hug. Taking on the role his Dad would have played, even through his own tremendous grief.
The way all the children and teens there were dressed. Most in their private school uniforms, others more casually with their favorite hoodies or shoes.
My son, by my side. For the first time that I no longer saw him as a child. He was a man sitting there, listening, crossing his chest in prayer, tears in his eyes and the limousine with the body pulled away. The smell of him, the sound of him, the silence in the car.
The wife, publically giving her children permission to laugh and be happy. Setting them free..Even as I write this part tears are streaming down my face. It was likely one of the most beautiful moments I have ever experienced. I had more respect for that Mother than I have had for anybody in that moment. I learnt more from her in that minute than I have from the thousand parenting books I have read over my lifetime.
The way that even if I did not know Roman Catholic etiquette, or where to sit in the church, or what to do, or how to act …that I knew anyways and so did Chase. We did not need to know we just knew. The length of time to stand outside watching the body going away-for so long because our feet would not move, the silence at the church, the laughter at the reception in celebration of his life. Where we sat and how we held on to each other. What was spoken and when.
The way my son cried the moment he saw his buddy break down as he said a final farewell to his Father as the casket was taken into the long car. The tears in Chase’s eyes. For someone else. The worry, the support, the empathy.
The respect, dignity and support shown for the family by my son. His decision to single them out one by one as he left to look at them in person and expressed his deepest respect. The fact this all came from him, from his heart and had nothing to do with me.
The son’s reaction when I told him that everything in the eulogy said about his Dad reminded me so much of the way I would describe him. He is his Father’s son. They way he hugged me, the way he held on. My courage in telling him that and not assuming it was an imposition or that he was preoccupied. Going with my instincts.
The “vrai education” that I gave my son today far more important than his missed Math or Science exam. The lessons.
The sheer and utter sadness of it all. The beautiful and lovely celebration of his life. The brilliance. The beauty. The horror. The loss. The community coming together. The paradox of what death makes us feel as the living.
But mostly….above all….was the support that was there today for that family. The foundation they have built with their dear friends, so many of them. The net that they have woven that will catch them through this horrifying time. The love that surrounds them. The friends who know them as family. The closeness and the bonds .
The feeling of recocogniton in me that I became paradoxically a little envious even during this tragic time..of this village that they had so lovingly built. So much not out of luck as the eulogy spoke out, but out of hard work and dedication. To family and friends. Of being there in thick and thin, in celebration and in loss. Building milestones..and memories. Being there always for each other every single step of the way
Building lives together that go beyond their own households.
Not always putting family first.
I have that village in many ways, but also don’t in some ways too.
I realized today who I am at the core and in some ways have ignored what I need in my life.
I am all about villages.
I want to focus on building this village. For my kids. For my Family.
For me
I need it
It’s the next step
It’s what has always been there
But also what has always been missing
To look at today and just let it all seep in. To remember it all rather than forgetting. To keep it with me as we keep on living. To learn the lessons that were meant for us to receive.
To allow a man’s life, and his death, to touch our own.
