In Memorium

On Thursday, March 21 2013 my father passed away.  He had emphysema (COPD).  Although he had been in the hospital for several weeks, it was a shock to us.  He had been doing better and getting stronger.  He was on the path to home.  And then he got pneumonia and there was not a thing to be done for him.  The doctors gave us the news Wednesday afternoon.  And about 24 hours later he took his last breath.  We were not prepared to say goodbye, but somehow we did.   

Much of our family was with him when he died, and we are grateful for that.  As he took his last breaths, it felt as though I went out of myself.  As strange as this may sound, the sight of my family gathered around him - every hand touching him and the person next to them, murmuring words of love to him - it was beautiful.  I was overwhelmed with love for my family. 

My sister said, during his funeral, that the greatest gift he gave us was this incredible family we have.  I have to agree with her.  In our immediate family, we number just over 20.  His wife of 34 years, 4 children, 11 grandchildren, 1 great-grandchild, 4 children-in-law and 1 grandson-in-law. 

We spent the next days together as a family, really only separating to go to sleep. Although, sleep didn't really come easily.  It turns out we would just go to our homes and, alone,  look at more pictures and think of times past.   A few of the days,  our spouses were people we passed in the night.  They were so wonderful and supportive, knowing intuitively that we needed to be with each other. and taking care of hearth and home so we could sit together and reminisce and look at thousands of pictures, and cry and laugh. 

On Wednesday, we officially memorialized him with family and friends at his funeral.  We all struggled with exactly how we could put into words just who he was and what he meant to us.  We used photos to display decades of memories, and that helped.  We each wrote and said words that helped.  But the impossible task of bringing it all home for people who were not his child - who he was - still eludes me.  In the few days since his funeral, I'm still eulogizing as I don't quite feel I found the depth of words to describe him. 

And finally today, I realize that I might never succeed in saying or writing what is so plainly in my heart. 

Maybe it's as simple as his smile.  The brilliance, the love, the dedication, the humour, the tenderness, the tenacity, the spirit, the beauty of his heart.  All in his smile.  What do you think?

Peace & Love,

Larry's Daughter