Monday, January 19, 2009

Roots of My Raisin Run Deep

I want to forget everything that has happened the last days, weeks, months. Just get back to "normal". But I can't kid myself, that's not possible. The man who is so much a part of me, and who I am, what I act like, sometimes look like, well... he's gone. Spiritually, of course, he'll always be around. I could look at it as having one more to watch over me, and also that I know he is happier and feels better than he has in a long time. But I still can't help feeling cheated by having him actually gone, and nothing will ever be the same again.

I nearly posted several times over the weekend, but I just couldn't seem to do it. I lacked the energy, inspiration, and maybe it was all more than I realized. I can't get all my thoughts together here, but I will probably be detailing more of my thoughts as of late along the way so bear with me. I'll still try to entertain if I can. :)

The service went fine. It was the most "personable" one I think I've ever been to, when usually they seem cold and so final and feelingless. Ours was different. We put ourselves into it. My brother-in-law brought a warm, laugh-inspiring, and tear-jerking Eulogy. It really suited Daddy. I sang two songs, "Daddy's Hands" by Holly Dunn, and an old gospel favorite of my family's, "Won't Have To Worry Anymore". My niece, Ginger, sang "Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)", and I honestly don't know how we made it through, except for the fact it was for Daddy and we wanted this service, this tribute to be perfect for him... so we pressed on and got through it. I think it went really well though, and I think Dad was pleased.

At graveside, I read a poem and the preacher ended it with a prayer... It was freezing cold and windy outside... we said our final goodbyes to my Dad's body and went home to put up with a host of visitors and food. It was then, right after we got home from all of this that I just came down with a bad cold. It just slammed me suddenly. I started to feel bad while we were still there, and when we got ready to go home, BAM!!! I went to bed kind of early, then I stayed in bed most of Sunday as well. Guess it was a combination of exhaustion and who knows what... I'm feeling some better today, but still not 100%.

Thanks again to everyone who has been by and left comments whether from another's blog, or just passing through, or those who know me pretty well, every encouraging word helped. I know we are not alone, and everyone goes through these things... guess it still doesn't make them easy to endure. For that we must count on our own inner strength, and keep moving and taking every day as it comes... Here we go to begin a whole new book, a sort of "A.D." (After Daddy) part. I honestly don't know where to begin except to take another step forward. What in the world am I going to do without that goofy grin, that ever-so-stubborn slightly fading red hair, and those bright blueish-green eyes to smile at me tell me "I Love You" right there in person?? Who's going to make me believe when they say "Everything's going to be alright." or to "Cut that crying out before I give you something to cry about!"

There are so many things you take for granted... so many things, until one day you're missing them all. But then it's too late... That's why I always try hard to live with No Regrets... and why, The Roots of My Raisin' Run Deep.

(I used to really think this was about raisins when I was a kid) lol


Jay said...

Moving forward is always hard to do, but there isn't any other option. It takes a while to get through it all so don't rush it either!

Adamity_Bomb_Bomb said...

I'm sorry, Jackie. I just lost my dad, too, back on November 2nd at 5:45 in the morning. In his case, it was cancer. I see it like this: the last few weeks of his life were the toughest *of* his life and, I think/know that the release of his being able to leave behind his earthbound bag-of-bones that was betraying him...well, I think that it's as good a gift as he could have gotten. It's tough, no doubt about it. Some days I'll be driving down the road and I'll think to myself, "Dad's not here with us anymore. He's gone." And it hits me really hard for a moment or two, but then I'm able to suck it up and realize that, though he's physically gone, his teachings and his goofiness and his twinkling hazel eyes will *never* leave my cognizance. And that is damned good.

(Shit. Starting to tear up, here.)

Good luck to you, and I'm sending you about as much Cyber-peace-and-hugs as I can muster.

Furtheron said...

Very fitting tribute to your Dad I'm glad that it went as good as these things can.

A couple of years ago an alcoholic friend of mine who was battling with recovery was murdered. I went to his funeral - he was a Sikh so it was so different and I understood very little of the language - save his sister speaking in English for our benefit in the equivalent of the eulogy. Didn't matter though I was there to say goodbye to a friend who feel on the path before he should have done.

ordinaryjanet said...

oh my gosh, I feel bad for not checking in. I just found out by looking at Jay's blog. I'm so sorry about your dad, Jackie! That was a nice post, I'm glad that the funeral was satisfying for you. I can't remember much of my dad's funeral because I was crying so hard. My thoughts are with you.

furiousBall said...

this is a tough step forward, but everyone is glad to see you take it.

g-man said...

Catching cold on top of everything else, well I do hope that you take some down time and recover soon. You make your daddy sound like how I want my kids to think of me. A very nice tribute.

Chelly said...

Sending you lots of love and hugs Jackie. You have a beautiful way with words. God bless you.


Speedcat Hollydale said...

Sending you hugs from Speedy too Jackie. Special people like your father are rare. I know right now is all about pain, but his love for you will remain in your heart always.

hug hug hug hug hugs