Day 2

As the minutes turned into hours and that devastating day faded into the next I laid awake. I could hear Mom stirring in her room so I went to check on her. I laid my head on my dad's pillow and my body where he should have been laying. I could smell the scent of his hair and I felt so close to him. My mom and I laid there for nearly 2 hours crying and praying and talking about God and how this all had to be part of His plan and that we shouldn't question why it happened.

Finally around 3:30 AM I drifted off into a twilight sleep. I heard every creek in the old farm house and starting at 5 I heard the neighbor's rooster. The closest neighbor to my parents is 1/2 mile away but that dang rooster had some umph behind his cock-a-doodle-doo. In all the nights that I have spent at my parent's house I have never heard a rooster.

Sunday morning we sorted through pictures trying to find the perfect one for the obituary. I sat down with my sister and her laptop to write the obituary. That is where I felt my mind numb. On some level I knew what I was doing, but on another it was just the start of many things that I've done over the last couple of weeks that make me feel like I'm living someone else's life. We went through Dad's closet and found a suitcoat, pants and shirt. The suitcoat had a small coffee stain on the collar and sleeve. My dad never could eat or drink anything without spilling just a little. :)

We quickly ran to Penney's to get dad a new tie. We thought that he deserved something new to wear even though it seemed silly in some respects. When we reluctantly arrived at the funeral home and began making plans for the service. It was surprisingly not that difficult. The worst part? When the funeral director gently told us that dad had a lot of structural damage to his face and that we may not be able to have an open casket. I got an image in my mind at that moment that haunts me. In my delusional mind this planning was not being done for MY dad.
After the planning was done we retreated back to the farm, but before the extended family arrived there was something that we all wanted, yet did not want, to do.
As we walked back behind the barn--all together as what was left of my family--the first thing to catch my eye was the tractor. The fender was all bent up, the muffler bent off to the side, steering wheel broken, but had clearly been cleaned up a bit. I couldn't help but kick the tires of that dang tractor. It had taken so much from me, but yet, it seemed somewhat sacred. That seat was the last place my daddy sat, and that steering wheel was the last thing he touched. The keys were in the ignition and caught my eye. I took one key off of the ring and put it in my pocket. Knowing that dad turned that key shortly before he left us drew me to it. It felt good to have my fingers wrapped around the same thing that his fingers were on.
As Sunday drew to a close we headed back to Davenport to get our home in order to be gone for a while.
Somehow, we had made it through a full day without Dad.