We met the rest of the family at the KOA campground in the Black Hills to take a memorial walk for Dad. He asked us to do this and never waivered throughout his illness about what his wishes were. In fact, one of the last conversations Bill had with Dad was Dad asking him if he knew the right place. He did -- we all did.
At 6:00 am ... a lucky alarm clock problem considering the heat, we set off to do what Dad wanted.
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| Starting off on our walk. |
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| Sunrise! |
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| The "easy" part is over! |
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| Taking a break - YAY!! |
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| Getting closer! The hike with 6+ miles round trip. |
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| A diamond! We used to ride with some people who were obsessed with trail markers. Dad thought that was hilarious! My dad much preferred to head off trail with his compass in hand. This picture is for you, Dad! |
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| Sibs and Mom at Dad's favorite place! |
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| Grandkids! |
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| Helping Ben spread his wildflower seeds. |
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| Kind of a somber time. |
This was what remained of my father's funeral service. There were some tears, some laughs. I have been trying to blog all week about this experience, but I have been struggling to come up with the right words. And as with the final moments of Dad's life ... it's precious and very difficult to describe. Throughout this blog, I hope that our respect and love for Dad is apparent. Reconciling my faith in God with my loss here on earth is hard -- I can admit that.
My dad would have been incredibly proud of us on this day. As we were leaving to hike back a big wind came through the trees and kind of swirled around us ... there had been no breeze that day .... I like to think that was my dad saying, "By golly they did it!"
We have each been asked if it bothers us that there is no grave to visit ... no "marker" signifying my dad's life. The "marker" of my dad's life is visible in the picture above of his grandchildren. And we DO have somewhere to visit.
I have seen the verse talking about building a stairway to heaven and bringing someone back again. I wouldn't. I know that if I could talk to Dad he would say, "Honey ... if you could just see where I am." He would say, "It'll be alright." He said that to me a lot. That, "...things have a way of working out." So, I wouldn't want my dad to come back. The pain is immense, but you can't ask someone to come back out of God's kingdom. We had a good life together here on earth and now Dad waits for us on the other side.
I will close this post with a writing that makes me think of Bill Haagenson. It's by Edgar Guest.
I might have been rich if I'd wanted the gold instead of the friendships I've made. I might have had fame if I'd sought for renown in the hours when I purposely played. Now I'm standing today on the far edge of life, and I'm just looking backward to see ... what I've done with the years and the days that were mine, and all that has happened to me.
I haven't built much of a fortune to leave to those who shall carry my name. And nothing I've done shall entitle me now to a place on the tablets of fame. But I've loved the great sky and its spaces of blue - I've live with the birds and the trees. I've turned from the splendor of silver and gold to share in such pleasures as these.
I've given my time to the children who came; together we've romped and we've played. And I wouldn't exchange glad hours spent with them for the money that I might have made. I chose to be known and be loved by the few, and was deaf to the plaudits of men. And I'd make the same choice should the chance come to me to live my life over again.
I've lived with my friends and I've shared in their joys ... known sorrow with all of its tears. I have harvested much from my acres of life, though some say I've squandered my years. For much that is fine has been mind to enjoy, and I think I have lived to my best. And I have no regret as I'm nearing the end for the gold that I might have possessed.
Love you Dad. Eternally proud to be your daughter.
