Today was the final day of "official" mourning for Papa. We buried him at Riverside National Cemetery. Hard to imagine that five weeks back from yesterday, Papa died. Papa died on a Sunday, and it seems fitting to complete things (of sorts) on a Monday. I felt that after a Friday vigil, Saturday service, Sunday cremation, and Monday burial, that I was now ready to let go, at least, of grief for now. I am thankful for these past weeks of mourning, and now, I feel like celebrating. ![]()
At the vigil, I read a poem I wrote for Papa, and at the service I gathered the family together for a family photograph long needed. Sunday observing the cremation, I also got a chance to say goodbye one last time to his body. I was so thankful for this special time, and he looked so peaceful. As we left the funeral home, part of me wondered, "how is this natural?" but my time on the farms reminded me that his body transforming is just a part of the natural way of things. Like the trees and all living things, Papa's body makes way for new life and rebirth. I'm not saying it doesn't feel strange or sad that his body isn't with me anymore, but I find peace in my relationship with the Earth that allows me to embrace the mystery of it all.
I guess it's similar to how strange and a bit sad it feels that I never got to meet this Papa, when he was so young. I'm struck again by how it is so strange and sad that we grow up. It hurts.
Yes, I've been feeling a lot of pain and sleeping a lot. I read on a friend's facebook wall recently that in falling a part, we can pick up the pieces we want to and leave the rest. This is such a place of power I was reminded from another friend, and I've been wondering, what pieces will I choose?
