Sometimes these posts are more about stories I want to remember for myself and less about having a message to put out there. This is one from my daddy's funeral that I want to remember.
I don't cry much. I have cried twice about daddy's death. You need to understand that it is not because I didn't love my daddy I loved him so so very much. My parents are and always have been two of my closest friends and confidants. I was a homebody in school and they are fun people so it was a no brainer.
One time that I cried was in Bradley's. Bradley's is a little chocolate shop made up of the most beautiful people. Bradley's is my Cheers bar. You know how sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name? That is Bradleys to me. I knew that they had made these things called snowballs which are a chocolate covered caramel stuffed with marshmellow rolled in coconut. Daddy would love that!!! I went in to get them and the place was packed. It was right before Christmas and I couldn't find any more snowballs. As I waited in line to ask my friend Shea if there were anymore I started getting emotional. I was thinking about how I liked to bring my daddy little treats like this and what if they didn't have any more and what if he passed and I wouldn't ever be able to bring him little treats ever again and the tears started. I looked up at the ceiling trying to get them to go back in. I waited and I waited in line hoping to not lose it.
It was my turn I choked out what I needed to Shea and it was so loud in there she didn't realize my voice cracked she jokingly said that they didn't have anymore...cue waterworks...I asked for his favorite treat she asked how many and she looked up and realized what was going down. I paid, she hugged me and I ran to my car.
Next up was the day of the burial. I lost it when I saw daddy's casket over the hole. It all seemed so final, so real. This was not supposed to be happening. Daddy was fine less than a month before. Ok sure there were little signs but I thought he needed a knee replacement and was being stubborn about it and the pain was making him grouchy.
The preacher at my parent's church started to tell a story about my daddy. It was a story about how there was drama in the church and some of the elders had gone to a families house. The family was upset with the church over something and they verbally attacked my father. My father who has never been anything but kind to anyone in his life. He took it like a man, did not retaliate and was kind to these people. The story went on and on about how my father was attacked, but my daddy did not react as he rightfully should have he showed God's love. The preacher paused for a moment and there was silence. I said loudly, "Oh, I'm going to need some names." and everyone laughed. The preacher said in horror I can't tell you that! I said I know you don't know me that well but I don't do tears. I do laughter. This had gotten way too serious for me. He continued on.
We all went back to the church for some treats and so many people came up to hug me and said that if I ever found out who it was they would go with me! These are my people, they understand my humor.
I thought of one more time that I cried. It was the day that I saw my daddy's PET scan. My daddy had 3 tumors in his lungs, too numerous to count lesions on his brain, the cancer was in his prostate, his spine, pretty much every where. My husband who works in the PET field said that he should have had pain, he should have been a whole lot more debilitated than he was, but that was my daddy. He didn't tell you the bad. He told you the good and focused on that, and that my friends is the topic of the next story to remember my daddy's last days... Thank you for listening...Go out...Be kind.
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