The day before...

...my dad's funeral I ran away.  My mother's home was filled with family and friends, noise and food.  If you needed company, that was the place to be.


...I needed quiet...


...I slipped away without telling anyone.  I got in my dad's pickup and drove to the mortuary.  I was the first one to drive his truck after he came home from the farm the previous Saturday, just hours prior to his death.  The tractor batteries were still in the back and his gloves were on the seat next to me.  His toolbox, clean and perfectly organized as always was on the floor of the passenger's side.


...the air smelled of a mixture of diesel fuel and Old Spice...


...it smelled like my daddy.


When I walked into the viewing chapel of the mortuary a woman I wasn't familiar with was sitting there.  I introduced myself, she expressed condolences and quickly excused herself saying she would let me have some time alone with daddy. 


...(here I go again, being all sad and morbid, but that's not really where I'm headed, so keep reading, it will get better, I promise) (well, I shouldn't really promise, because when I start writing, I never really know where I'm headed, but I'm hoping for a happy ending)...


...anyway...


I sat there for awhile listening to soft background music, thinking about everything, trying to figure out what I could do to help my mother.  I finally walked over and stood by daddy.  I looked at him closely.  I wanted to remember everything about him.  I especially wanted to remember his hands and how mine are the same shape as his.  His fingernails were always clean, even though he worked hard with his hands all his life.  His nose, some might have called it a large Greek nose, but to me, it was him.  His hair, his lips, his ears, just trying to make sure I knew and could always remember him.


...and it was while I was standing there that I thanked him for all he had done for me and I told him I would take care of mother for the rest of her life.  Of course, I didn't know then that she already had breast cancer, but it wouldn't have mattered, I knew I would do whatever it took.  It was the following week that she had surgery and was diagnosed.  As a result I traveled back and forth to Kansas every other month to help her, leaving Danielle, still in high school, and Lauren, in junior high, at home with Matthew.


It was probably harder on them than me to have me gone so much.  D. was in charge of the cooking.  Lauren was in charge of cleaning.  Matthew did everything else.  They managed to keep it together.


...it was Matthew that paid the ultimate price.


I was so lucky 35 years ago that I married the man I did.  My life has been blessed everyday, my children's lives have been blessed, my grandchildren are blessed and now my mother has been blessed for the gift Matthew continues to be for all of us.


...thank you Matthew for your love and support.