Trying to stay on top of things at the moment. I refuse to be mired in the sorrow, but I know enough to recognise the fact I am grieving and pretty much everything goes. I just miss my wonderful Dad, that's all. I haven't spoken to him for almost three weeks now. I won't speak to him again, except in my mind; like yesterday when I looked at his photograph on the front of the booklet printed for his funeral, and I whispered, 'I miss you, Dad.' I am comforted that he died quickly and without pain, and he is at peace. He was devastated by the deaths of my brother and my mother, but I know he is no longer grieving their losses, and he cannot be hurt any more.
My brother, sister, and I each spoke at the funeral. It was easier than I thought it would be, but I wanted to do it, which was probably of great assistance. Everyone thinks of my father as a horseman, which he was, but to me he was Dad. I don't like horses, so we had to bond in other ways, which was what I told the congregation. We loved books, and our favourite was 'To Kill A Mockingbird'. We occasionally chewed the fat over what a great book that is. The last present I gave Dad was the sequel to this novel. I spoke of our mutual love of cryptic crosswords. I reminded the assembled masses (of which there was at least 250) that Dad was a horseman before a showman, who would always put the welfare of the animal first. Other funny stories came from my brother: Dad came second in a steer riding contest sponsored by Tarzan's Grip (we surmised had he used a bit more in the saddle, he might have come first!), and my sister about how Dad once suddenly took off at full gallop, removed a strap and buckle from the saddle, and clobbered a lamb-killing fox with it (still in the saddle). We showed a photo tribute on a screen, which was mainly put together by my 23-year-old nephew. He did a great job. I thought I would probably cry through it, but I was okay; I daresay because I had viewed it a few times already. My 14yo became tearful, so I put my arm around him. After a while, he whispered, 'Mum, you're frying me.' He is such a 'boy'.
It is hard describe how it feels to watch your son assist in carrying the coffin of his grandfather from the church. I was numb, sorrowful, and proud. All at the same time. I walked behind my sister and sister-in-law, on the arm of my niece's husband and with my other arm around my 11yo. The walk seemed so slow. We walked down the path to where the hearse was parked, and where six men on horseback waited. It is humbling and touching to recall the sight of all the farmers and stockmen outside the church, and men on horseback, removing their hats and placing them over their hearts, as my brother, brother-in-law, husband, son, and two nephews put my father in the hearse for his final journey. 'Don't cry!' my 11yo instructed me, several times. I dabbed at my eyes, though. My 14yo realised Pop is gone, and started to sob, and as the horses led the hearse away, with people in the churchyard clapping, my 11yo forgot his own edict and wailed for his Pop. It breaks my heart, but I guess children have to experience grief at some stage.
I guess writing this post is a catharsis for me. I have not been sleeping well, but it's getting better. And will continue to get better. I will be back to writing my usual cynical, and I hope, entertaining posts very soon. These past few weeks have been crappy, and the next few days will be. Today is the anniversary of my mother's death. I am normally okay, but because I've just lost Dad, today just seems really sad. Tomorrow is the anniversary of my father-in-law's death, so Mr Bingells is bound to be really feeling it tomorrow; he also loved my father and has shed quite a few tears since we got the awful news.
In closing, I am including a link to the tribute. It's on YouTube, so I will post a link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQOAzx88do8
If you've read this post, thank you for doing so. I'm sorry to post something maudlin as I try to entertain my readers, but I needed to do this for me. I will be my usual acerbic self very soon. Probably when I next post in a few days. I told my son yesterday it is normal and okay to be sad at this time, but assured him he will feel happiness again, and it's all right to be happy.
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