SRKindredSpirits

My Dads funeral was on a cold winter day.  The actual funeral service really didn't mean much to me. It seemed the preachers just talked about random stuff ( like sexual assault and how we shouldn't be cremated -it was weird). My mom made it very clear which kids she wanted with her and those of us that were not welcome....  Anyway, it was probably the weirdest funeral I've ever been too, and I've been to alot! (My ex husband and I used to manage a Cemetary and help at the funeral home, so I do know a bit about funerals.) But, when we got to the graveside, the most beautiful, big snowflakes were falling all around us. The little country Cemetary was covered in a white, fluffy, blanket of snow.. it felt like God made it perfect just for me!  The graveside service and story about my Dad, ment more to me than any other thing that was said during the funeral.  The following poem was read by my Dad's long time customer and preacher friend, at the graveside service.  ...

I absolutely hate the visitation line at viewings and funerals. No matter which side of the line I'm on. I hate standing there next to a deceased loved one for hours at a time. The loved one is gone, its just an empty shell (if you know anything at all about embalming/autopsies, you know that the body has been so mangled, glued, wired, sewn, painted, etc, its really not the same person at all.) I hate trying to come up with small talk with people, or trying to comfort them when I can’t even comfort myself. I hate having to endure people I barely know trying to “solve” my grief, as if some saying or cliché can take away the pain. I hate the awkward things people say, like, "oh, doesn't he/she look so good!" Excuse me. You don't look good when you're dead.... you just don't. (This is one of the reasons that I will not have a veiwing, an open casket, or a traditional funeral when its my time to go.) And most of all, I hate the cheap casket-side theology that...

I was by my Dad's beside when he died today.... Someone had said, that we should have prayed to God for a miracle so that my Dad would be healed completely here on earth..... But after talking with my sister about it... the way that I see it, my Dad's death was a miracle. It was a miracle that he lived for five months after his diagnosis, without standard treatment. It was a miracle that he was in his right mind up until the day that he died. It was a miracle that we had five good long months to talk with him, to be together, and to learn things about his life and spend time with him.  Dad and I just understood each other so much more... we just let the past go andade so many good memories.... just like the following song.  https://youtu.be/DTFbGcnl0po It was a miracle that he was pain-free the majority of the time.. It was a miricle that he was only in pain at the end. That he didn't have to suffer long. It was a miracle that we were able to be by his bedside when he passe...