Maybe the Last Sad Post, I'm Not Sure
The night before my dad's funeral I couldn't sleep. I think I finally dozed off around 4:30 a.m. Jack woke me up about 8:45. We made it to the church just after 10:00.
I don't know what I expected from something called a "memorial service."
"We were sandbagged," whispered Jack. It was a full-length Catholic mass with some extra sadness thrown in, in the form of my brother making his best effort to read a eulogy for his dead father without sobbing.
Funny bits: watching Jackson cope with all the Catholic rigamarole by fidgiting relentlessly; plus the whole, Now we're standing UP! Okay, now SIT DOWN! Uh-oh, time to KNEEL! Also, I did giggle when my brother referred to Tom Brokaw's Greatest Generation, but it only makes sense if you've watched Ricky Bobby five or thirty times. I'm an asshole. Tell me something I don't know.
When we got to Ft. Logan cemetery, though, and walked past a row of old guys in VFW hats standing at attention for my dad, I lost it. If the church thing left me a little cold, the military ceremony stuck a sword in my heart and yanked it right out of my chest. A twenty-one gun salute is an astonishing shock to the system, but when the color guard folded up an American flag and a soldier got down on one knee and handed it to me, that was the saddest public most wrenchingly heartfelt thing that has ever fucking happened to me. Jackson was sitting on my lap and he hugged that flag to his chest tight. The military, they've had a lot of practice burying soldiers, and my god they know how to do dignity. I'm not one to romanticize that shit at all, but I have a lot more respect for spit-and-polish now.
One happy side-effect of being sleep deprived is that it gets you in touch with your weeping. One unhappy side-effect of being sleep deprived the evening after your father's funeral is that it's your twenty-fifth high school reunion!!
As you can imagine, even after an hourlong afternoon nap, I was ready to put a pillow over my head and sleep for two years. But when your best friend has flown 3,000 miles just to hang with you, you dig down deep for the strength to hold both the sadness and the joy without dishonoring either one. Two glasses of wine at the hotel bar and my chin was above water. Off we went.
I don't know what I expected from something called a "memorial service."
"We were sandbagged," whispered Jack. It was a full-length Catholic mass with some extra sadness thrown in, in the form of my brother making his best effort to read a eulogy for his dead father without sobbing.
Funny bits: watching Jackson cope with all the Catholic rigamarole by fidgiting relentlessly; plus the whole, Now we're standing UP! Okay, now SIT DOWN! Uh-oh, time to KNEEL! Also, I did giggle when my brother referred to Tom Brokaw's Greatest Generation, but it only makes sense if you've watched Ricky Bobby five or thirty times. I'm an asshole. Tell me something I don't know.
When we got to Ft. Logan cemetery, though, and walked past a row of old guys in VFW hats standing at attention for my dad, I lost it. If the church thing left me a little cold, the military ceremony stuck a sword in my heart and yanked it right out of my chest. A twenty-one gun salute is an astonishing shock to the system, but when the color guard folded up an American flag and a soldier got down on one knee and handed it to me, that was the saddest public most wrenchingly heartfelt thing that has ever fucking happened to me. Jackson was sitting on my lap and he hugged that flag to his chest tight. The military, they've had a lot of practice burying soldiers, and my god they know how to do dignity. I'm not one to romanticize that shit at all, but I have a lot more respect for spit-and-polish now.
One happy side-effect of being sleep deprived is that it gets you in touch with your weeping. One unhappy side-effect of being sleep deprived the evening after your father's funeral is that it's your twenty-fifth high school reunion!!
As you can imagine, even after an hourlong afternoon nap, I was ready to put a pillow over my head and sleep for two years. But when your best friend has flown 3,000 miles just to hang with you, you dig down deep for the strength to hold both the sadness and the joy without dishonoring either one. Two glasses of wine at the hotel bar and my chin was above water. Off we went.
56 Comments:
I am sending hugs from the UK. I hope you're now getting more sleep!
A couple of glasses of wine always do the trick...
Hope the sleep comes soon.
My boys just attended their first Catholic memorial service. Jack was completely confused and irritated by the "stand up, kneel, sit down" back-and-forth and decided to slump, perhaps thinking that slumping was a pretty reasonable amalgam of those mystifying three commands.
We got shot many dirty looks during that ceremony.
Lovely, poignant post, eden. You're right that the military does dignity like no other institution.
Hope you're OK.
Thinking of you.
My husband always refers to the Catholic mass as a holy pep rally - Sit down, stand up, fight fight fight! As a recovering Catholic myself, I find it pretty funny! My mother? Not so much.
You painted a beautiful picture of military dignity and pride in its current and former warriors. My husband is also a former marine, and it just gets embedded in your soul somehow.
Very sorry for your loss.
My uncle had a military funeral when I was a child -- probably about 6. I still remember the guns firing, the flag. I guess it really draws you into the present moment. Hope you're getting some sleep!
Good God, woman,
Your power to communicate using the written word (and that last beautiful photo) continue to astonish.
Write as many sad posts as you need to.
I got some water in my eye thinking Jackson hugging the flag. But I downright started weeping at the thought of you having to go to your 25 high school reunion. Hang strong, lady.
Oh man, my fiance's family is Catholic, and while I myself am an atheist, I always found the services to be lovely. Although, the calisthenics? The stand up, sit down, kneel, stand up, kneel, sing a song, say a prayer, THANKS BE TO GOD, PEACE BE WITH YOU! parts? I found those BAFFLING.
I'm glad Jack and Jackson were there too. Having a small body to hold onto always helps me, anyway.
I'm so sorry about your dad.
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I too lost my father unexpectedly this year. Thank you for putting into words things that I could not.
I'll pass on the best advice I was given. Be gentle with yourself.
I'm sorry, Eden. I agree with SUEB0B. Write as many as you need.
Poignant. We share many similar memories.
I'm glad Jackson was there for you. It's nice to have a piece of the future sitting in your lap when a piece of the past slips away.
Wow. I've never seen a military funeral in person; I would have melted with nostalgia and pride too.
"you dig down deep for the strength to hold both the sadness and the joy without dishonoring either one."
Brilliant.
My sincerest condolences to you. I have been riveted by these posts. Not to mention totally unable to comment because I need to turn away from these vignettes for a little while after reading them or my heart might completely break. But I want to let you know that I feel very deeply for your loss, and I am awed by the power of your voice. Thank you for showing us what blogging can be in the hands of one hell of a writer.
Man, it's like Holly from Nothing But Bonfires said the other day - elderly military vets, they can really get you in the gullet. It's nice that your dad had such a respectful sendoff. I hope the reunion brought at least a little distraction from all the Sad. Peace to you.
What an amazing send-off. Well done for getting through it.
Sleep well.
This is a really meaningful post to me, bringing tears to my eyes. My grandfather died at 87 in October, and he received military honors at his funeral. I completely agree that it is a heart-wrenchingly beautiful thing to watch. You really can't understand it until you experience it, particularly if it's for a member of your immediate family. The flag went to my mom, who was sitting next to me, and I thought I was going to die I was crying so hard. 'Taps' was the worst (best?). Few times I've bawled that hard.
I'm glad you got to see this honor for your Dad, it's amazing to watch a group of people you've never met direct that much respect toward your family member.
One quick thing I wanted to say. Only presidents receive 21 gun salutes at funerals. We usually mistake that (I did, too, when my grandpa died). What most members of the military receive is (disappointingly) not actually a gun salute, but a three-rifle volley. Generals, admirals, and higher receive gun salutes of various numbers less than 21. I don't know what your Dad was ranked, I'm sorry if I missed it.
Please know I'm not saying any of this to devalue your Dad's service in any way (in no way is his service less meaningful to me especially), I'm saying this just because I went through a similar experience last year and learned a lot about military funerals.
Here's two awesome links explaining more:
An 'About' page on salutes
The official military funeral honors website
They're both really interesting, especially if you've just experienced it.
Also, it's apparently becoming somewhat common to have a recorded version of 'Taps' played, due to properly trained bugal players becoming more rare and unavailable. This makes me very sad, and I was thankful we had a live player.
Two interesting bits, then I'll shut up:
"The three volleys comes from an old battlefield custom. The two warring sides would cease hostilities to clear their dead from the battlefield, and the firing of three volleys meant that the dead had been properly cared for and the side was ready to resume the battle.
The flag detail often slips three shell-casings into the folded flag before presenting the flag to the family. Each casing represents one volley."
It's been interesting and meaningful reading your posts as you go through your Dad's items and spend time there away from home. That is such a quintessential experience of a parent passing, in my opinion, the discovery of old things, little secrets you never knew about and now you laugh about and wish you could go back and ask about them, staying up all night and being physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted every second of the day. Wondering how you're going to split up things, document photos and records, being too emotionally drained to want to even figure it out. Scared that you're going to have nightmares or wake up in the middle of the night and see a ghost or something crazy. (At least I was! :) ) Anyway, I know this is a really long comment, but it has brought up a lot of memories of going through the same things. It's amazing to see someone go through it after you did, I think when someone close to us passes, our world stops, but we're amazed to see that everyone else's keeps going. My thoughts are with you.
Longtime reading, first-time commenting...just as it's your grief and yours alone, this is your blog. Use it as you need for sad, happy or heartrending posts. Thanks for sharing this difficult journey with us.
Another note on military funerals...I was never very patriotic but your written depiction of that flag folded and handed over was enough to send me right back to my grandfather's service which was one of the most dignified and memorable parts of my own grief journey. Thanks.
My father was buried (or rather, his cremated remains were placed in an urn in the ground) at Fort Logan in late May 2005. My thoughts are with you.
You told it so well that I was crying along with you. There is something so damned, I don't know...American?, about what they say when they hand the flag over.
take care....
Use your (amazing, powerful, brilliant) way with words to work through your grief. My Mom died unexpectedly, on Thanksgiving, in 2005 and writing about it is probably the healthiest thing I've done. Write about sad and funny and irritating things as you need to. Not until I re-read some of my old posts did I realize that I actually am making some progress in my healing.
Your loss is unique and, well, yours and well-meaning friends and family may tell you should be feeling or doing this or that...no one's grief is like yours. You'll grieve differently than your brothers. And that is okay. One day at a time is all you have to do. Sometimes one hour at a time seems overwhelming, and that's okay too. I echo the thoughts of the commenter who said to be gentle with yourself.
I am so sorry for your loss.
Wonderful post. Thank you for capturing the bittersweetness of everything so well.
At Jewish burial ceremonies, family and friends help bury the dead. After the coffin gets lowered, shovels are passed around and people scoop dirt from a mound and dump it in.
That was one of the most powerful moments of my dad's funeral--watching my grandmother (who, yes, had outlived her son) delicately shoveling the dirt in, her hands shaking, and then watching this cohort of sixty-something-year-old men who had known my dad forever fling shovelful after shovelful, sweating like crazy in their suits, finding no other way to express their anger and grief than with this repetitive action, not wanting to stop until the job was done.
The other thing that got me was the drive to the cemetery--this miles-long caravan of cars with their headlights on, and the way that even in NYC, traffic stopped for us, not knowing who was being buried or why, just being respectful of the dead.
Sorry to blather on. My dad died six years ago and you've reminded me of a lot of shit. Thank you for that too.
Definitely write as much sad stuff as you want. I'm with you on the gun salute: each of my grandfathers had one and... wow.
I'm so sorry.
Power on.
How do you do that, put everything together so seamlessly?
I re-read the military portion already three times.
In this case it's not revenge but you're certainly achieving at the other part: writing well.
My dad was a colonel in the Army and was buried at Arlington. Because Arlington has become so crowded (horrible but true) they only allow vets with the highest ranks to be buried there now.
The caisson, the band (which does play taps) the gun salute. We were told by an Arlington employee that there are 3 rifles firing 7 times so it makes it 3x7=21.
When they hand you the flag they say, "Oh behalf of the President of the United States and a grateful nation...." I don't remember anything after that as I was sobbing uncontrollably.
I've entertained the troops overseas three times, all during the Bosnian War. When you see it all up close and talk to these soldiers, it's hard not to be impressed. And respectful.
I'm very sorry for the loss of your dad.
Thank you for being so open about your grief, I'll bet it feels good to share. On another tangent:
I am coveting your hoodie! Where did you get it?
Eden, you're awesome. Sweet dreams when you manage to get there, and sweet wakies until then.
good god, woman, can you ever dig deep! i'm so sorry to hear about your dad. you are a trooper.
Really touching. Thanks for sharing.
Reading this brought back a lot of memories.
When my father died, the VFW stepped it up. Imagine the rifles and flag with bagpipes (which my dad arranged for when he planned his own funeral) and that was when my shit was lost.
Wow. That was truly visceral. Hope you managed a few laughs with your friend and again my heartfelt condolences on your loss. Personally, I find there's a delicate balance of X glasses of wine = courage and X + Y glasses = more weeping.
That was beautiful. Talk about it as much as you want to.
My grandfather died at 89 last year in December. I kept it together until the flag ceremony. The solemn honor, the words of thanks to the widow...my Lord it's the most starkly beautiful, sad thing I know of. Even for someone so old. You can't help thinking of all the young families who go through this during wars.
And now I'm crying at work. Dammit.
this post stuck a sword in my heart. i'm so sorry. sometimes those sorts of ceremonies help with the grieving process. also, you're right, there's nothing like a catholic mass to take the emotion right out of you.
Awww crap. After lurking for Lordy-Only-Knows-and-yes-ain't-I-a-ho-bag how long, I have to break the seal and give you a big 'ole sloppy internet snuggle.
Dealing with the funeral and the reunion all in one week - you are now explicitly entitled to a week of binge drinking followed by a month or so of recovery (from the drinking and all of the above...)
So, from a total stranger (and a strange one at that) my cold, black heart is actually bleeding for you. Wish I could buy you a cuppa coffee and a quiet afternoon. Or a mojito and a lap dance. You know - whatever would cheer you up the most.
Cheers to you. May the timbre of your year get much happier right-fucking-quick.
Awww Crap, the second.
Perils of allowing the hubcap to borrow the laptop. The "jay" comment was me. (I'm waving).
As a former Catholic (they kind of lost me with the pre-marital sex ban) I remember the sit down, stand up, kneeling very well. But as a child it was all that was interesting about the sermons (save for the paper thin bread that melted immediately on the tongue) and kept us on our toes.
So sorry for the loss of your father. That said I am amazed you got your butt to the reunion. Talk about the perfect excuse to bail!
I've made it so very long without crying over one your entries...the first/last time was over Katie.
You broke me tonight. You broke me hard.
i think it must be hard to refernce yourself, and certainly harder in re your dad vs. a dog situation... but?
sometimes the world.
De-lurkifying to say that I'm sorry for your loss. Beautiful post, you are keeping your shit whilst losing it.
I had a couple bourbon and sevens tonight (okay, I think it was closer to five) in solidarity with your imbibement. And now I tjhaod faioher ngther fkgsd (hic). Um right, off to bed with me now....
It'll get better, you know, all the breathing, and thinking, and feeling, and shit. xo
I know we are all jaded by the internet but it is sort of amazing to read all these posts--they are quite amazing. As are you.
Darlin', you are a tower of strength.
You may have been sleep-deprived but your shirt screams 'well rested'. hope you had fun.
The thing about military honour is that it seems to bring everything to a searing focus. My uncle fought a nasty mind-stealing thing and at the funeral the sharpness of the suits, the brightness of the flag, the gunshots, the heat of the day... it made it impossible to ignore who he was and how crappy it was that he was gone.
Hope you have time now to take it easy this summer.
p.s.- I keep picturing you as Martin Blank. If any woman can pull-off my favorite Cusack character, it's you.
I grew up in the Catholic church and I am 100% with Jackson.
I wish I could articulate it better - but it comes out as...
Thanks and MOOOOOCHES. And more thanks and a very sincere "I know your heart will heal but it really sucks right now".
Sad is a season.
I know from experience.
It will pass and it will come again when least expected.
You miss your parents always after they cross to the other side.
We cleaned out 50 years of life and that experience was overwhelming.
You know, the greatness of these posts has resided in the fact that they have *not* been unrelievedly sad. They have been rich with intertwining strands of lots of different things, including humor, most notably some rather gorgeous love.
Thank you for sharing this with us. I'm very sorry for your pain and loss, and don't have anything smart or deep or useful to say about it. Still, you've also been making something beautiful out of it for your readers.
Hugs and good thoughts to you over the miles. My father was buried in a military ceremony. There was a last-minute struggle to find a live trumpeter. We insisted because he had played trumpet in the Air Force Band. A recording just wouldn't have done it. He deserved the real thing. And yes, they found someone, and he played well. It was a fitting tribute to a musician who valued his military experience.
You are exactly four (4) years older than me. Ha.
I am so sorry for your loss. A military funeral is a very moving tribute to not on the person who has passed but to the soldiers who have gone before them.
As a non-catholic but raising my children as catholic because their father is, I am with Jackson on the whole stand up, sit down, kneel, stand up. It is hell on the joints.
Now I am definitely in touch with my weeping, too. I can think of few things sadder than a military send-off for one's dad.
My continued condolences.
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