The calendar may say it’s September 19, but Mom and I went ahead and planned our Day of Remembering for today anyway. We wanted to be able to spend the day together without kids, and with soccer games and meetings and other activities, tomorrow just seemed to be too rushed.
The day started out as usual: meeting at the gravesite at Restland in the morning for the traditional placing of the flowers. Mom got there earlier than I did (of course) and she had the opportunity to sit and reflect a bit as she waited for me. There are a number of new memorial benches and sculptures around the area, which really enhances the quiet, peaceful nature of the site. We placed the flowers and took the traditional pictures around the area, but you’re only going to be treated to a couple as my batteries ran out and I neglected to put extras in my purse.
While we were there, Mom asked me to share a special, happy memory I have of Dad, and this is what I shared:
When I was a senior in high school, I applied for an academic scholarship from Gordon College that required an on-campus interview. For me, this meant flying from Miami to Boston, doing the on-campus interview, and spending a weekend with Grampa and Grammy at their home in Danvers….in FEBRUARY. We had to beg, borrow, and steal any heavy winter outerwear we could get our hands on, but we managed to score a nice long coat, some gloves, and a scarf prior to the trip. Due to the cost of the plane ticket alone, we couldn’t manage to purchase new clothes – and what store in Miami sells woolens anyway? – so I had to make do with pitifully thin warm-weather dresses and pants.
My dad was a master packer. He could make a week’s worth of clothing fit into a lunchbox. Okay, so not quite, but I bet he could come close. As master packer, he was in charge of making all my clothes fit into the suitcase for my trip. I “helped”, but mostly by flitting in and out of my room giving him more things to pack while I socialized with my boyfriend on the phone or watched my favorite tv show or ran off to some high school event.
The night I arrived at Grampa & Grammy’s I pulled out my pajamas to get ready for bed and my big day the next day. A small slip of paper fluttered out from between the folds and fell to the floor. As I picked it up, I saw a typed note with a Bible verse about sleeping in peace and underneath it a short encouraging message about how he and Mom would be praying for me to get a good night’s rest before the long interview process the next day. Curiosity got the best of me and I began to pull out other articles from the suitcase and found several other notes…in my shoes, my bathrobe, my dress, even my makeup case. Each one had a verse relating to the article of clothing – about walking in the truth, robing myself with righteousness, putting on Christ, or having God’s face shine with favor upon me – and a short message of encouragement underneath. My dad always hated his handwriting so he had typed out each one and cut it into a small piece to tuck unnoticed into my clothes. Even at 17, my heart was touched deeply by my dad’s act of love.
How could I have known then that only a decade later he would be gone?
For a long time, I saved those little slips of paper. Somewhere along the line, however, they were lost and I no longer have them. But I have the memory and will always carry it with me in my heart.
And that’s what this day of remembering is about, and why it will always be a special and important day for me. The pain of loss never really goes away, but remembering the happy times, the special relationship we shared, and just being thankful for having such a loving and caring dad makes the loss easier to bear.
We headed back to Mom’s house where we put the finishing touches on a project we began in 1998, on our very first Day of Remembering. We have now placed all the cards and letters Mom received into a series of albums – four to be exact – organized and tagged so that we can look back and remember the legacy Dad left behind…the number of lives he touched, the number of people he influenced, the example he set of service, leadership, and faithfulness.
It was a perfect day…and a perfect way to remember someone very dear to us who will never be forgotten.
Pictures below the fold.
Such a sweet memory of your Dad. After all we have been through this year with my Dad, I realize that I need to cherish my sweet memories more. Thanks for the reminder again today.
I wish I could have known him and I guess I do through you and who you are. Thank you for sharing your memories with us.
Hugs to you Debbi…
Deb – You and your mom and brothers are in my thoughts today. I always remember your playing your dad’s favorite “My Tribute” by Andrae Crouch at the service. I haven’t been able to listen to that song since (it was also my favorite) but before Ken left the church in Waltham in June, I asked the soloist to please sing it for me in memory of my brother. I warned her I’d be sobbing so she deliberately didn’t look my way. But it was so cathartic. Dave, your dad, was the absolute best and what an example of a godly father (with a great sense of humor). The hurt doesn’t go away and sometimes increases but the memories give comfort.
Along with you, Debbi, your Mom, your brothers, and Aunt Joyce, I too remember those September days in 1997. When the time came for you all to “let go,”I received a call from grampa. I remember playing Brahms Requiem on the stereo while lying prostrate on the living room floor. Between sobs and prayers, I tried to understand, or at least come to peace with this unbelievable loss in our family. David gone? No! It can’t be. Then the trip to Dallas from Pennsylvania. Uncle Dick and I will never forget arriving (late, due to our connections) at the church where everyone was gathered and receiving friends, colleagues, and church family. Gram, in a wavering 86 year old voice, said to us, “God is good.” My memories of your dad are those of two kids growing up together in “the parsonage.” Oh, so often, I wish I could call him and ask him about a certain event or person in our lives. We still grieve, and we always will, but isn’t it awesome that we can grieve with hope? We’re held in love and grace in the hollow of His hand!