Smile over a tear

As I walked into the church the numbness surrounded me again. On some level it all still seemed like I was living someone else's life and just going through the motions of how I was supposed to feel. On another level I had a feeling that I couldn't put into words for the longest time...(until it was defined for me at a grief conference this week)...like something inside me imploded and left a huge, empty hole that left me gasping for air. Not just feeling a little faint and short of breath, but gasping.

I studied his face one last time trying to absorb every detail. I yearned again to exchange one more "I love you" or one more hug. The face of my father. How could I live the rest of my life without ever seeing him again? Tears stung at my eyes. No, I can't lose it now. I want to honor my daddy by sharing some of my best memories with him at the service, and if I let myself break now, that might not happen. Then it happened. I noticed it and started to giggle a little on the inside. My dad was wearing lipstick! Of course he was, that is something that funeral directors do to the deceased to make them look more "natural" but his lips were the most rosy pink and the more I looked at them the more it struck me funny. He looked like he'd been to a Mary Kay party. Grief is like that, I guess. There is a teetering between sadness and happiness. (I also learned at the grief seminar that this is where the word "Sappy" comes from. Sad+Happy=Sappy. It makes sense, I guess I just never thought about it). I had mixed emotions about the appropriateness of the final viewing of my dad ending in smiles, but then again my dad would choose a smile over a tear anyday, right?

The service was not sad for me. We sang How Great Thou Art and Uncle Duane perfectly blended memories of dad with a message of hope and salvation. Uncle David sang "There is a Redeemer" and "He Hideth My Soul" beautifully and it held much truth. The words that I had put together earlier in the day (seriously, I didn't have much time at all) turned out ok. At the end of the service we sang Amazing Grace. Oh my. It was THE MOST beautiful thing I have ever heard. Mom later said that she felt like she was in Heaven singing right along with Dad. I have never heard a song build like that and Aunt Sandy was on the piano putting beautiful frills and grace notes everywhere. It was lovely. I'm not trying to brag by any means, but this was just the kind of service that my daddy would have talked about for weeks.

Following the service we went to the cemetery for the burial. The weather could not have been more beautiful. As we gathered around the grave the colors of fall surrounded us. The golden corn, the green rolling hills, and the trees with just a scant blush of autumn in their leaves. We read some scriptures and sang the last verse of "When Peace Like a River" to cousin Andrew's saxophone accompaniment. That, too, seemed not so sad. It felt almost like a picnic out there. My mind had tuned out all sadness and was relishing in the thought that God had just allowed us to see just a hint of heaven and how happy dad must be. He gets to enjoy the beauty of God's grace and not have to wake up to a tomorrow of grief and longing.

Somewhere inside, I knew the joy that I felt that day would only last as a memory, and that there were tough days ahead. I just could not have imagined then how hard it would really be. But if God would fill me with joy even for the moment, it felt so refreshing.

Sidenote: There! I did it! I've been struggling with putting my thoughts to words for the funeral piece. I bet I started over at least 10 times, but here, on Saturday night beginning at 11:00 on another night where I can't fall asleep....grrr...it all came together. Yay! Now I can hopefully have a little closure on that chapter! And thank God for auto save. I thought I lost it...