In the woods where the Honey Suckles grow,
On the farm where the morning roosters crow,
That is where you'll find me.
Deep in the mud where the arrow heads are found,
There in the streams that run from underground,
That is where you'll find me.
Next to the water with a fishing pole,
Or with a gun beside a rabbit's hole,
That is where you'll find me.
In the mountains when winter's first snow falls,
In the valleys when spring's first bird calls,
That is where you'll find me.
Out where the horses run,
And where the sun sets when the day is done,
That is where you'll find me.
Not in the casket where my body lays,
Not wherever my remains are displayed,
That is not where you will find me.
Look next to my grandchildren when they are sleeping,
Look at your side when you feel like weeping,
Look in the mirror when you feel broken,
Look for the words that I might have spoken,
Because, that is where I will be.
There is a certain art when it comes to losing someone because there is an endless amount of ways you can do so. There is the heart- aching break up which just straps you in an emotional roller coaster until there is a special someone to stop the machine and let you off or you decide to take a leap of faith and jump. There is the inevitable death that takes a person away forever. And, there is a countless amount of others.
On December 12th of last year (2015), I lost my father to “natural causes”. Whatever that's suppose to mean. The italicized above is a poem I wrote for him and read at his funeral. It's a funny thing to think about the day before he passed. I had spent the entire day with my oldest sister. Then, I went to go visit my aunt and cousin that I haven't seen in what feels like a century. Afterwards, I went back to campus to see my friends for one last time before Christmas Break and to stop by a party. I had a wonderful night. It was, probably one of the best of 2015.
However, the next day took a slight change. I got a phone call from my aunt around six o' clock in the morning telling me that Dad died during the night. After I took it all in and decided that I wasn't dreaming, my mind started recapping everything I did the night before. I began to wonder what I was doing at the exact moment that he died. My night of fun turned into a morning of disbelief. See, the thing about the day before a life changing event it's just another day until the life-changing thing actually happens.
We had all of these things we had planned. My siblings and I were supposed to be having a dinner night with him while we were all in Alabama for Christmas vacation; it would be the first time in a very, very long time that we'd all be together. He was supposed to come down to campus in late January so that I could show him where I go to school. Then, my oldest sister and I were supposed to go out to eat with him. All of that was gone in just the time that it took for me to get a phone call. He's not going to get to see me graduate from college. He's not going to know when I get my first job in a hospital. He's not going to meet my kids. All of that, gone.
However, if you ask me, I think he chose to die at the time that he did. He knew that it wouldn't be in vein. All of my siblings already planned on being nearby when this happened. We were already planning on seeing each other and catching up. Most of us were getting to meet the newest addition to the family, my beautiful baby niece, for the very first time. My dad knew all of that. I think, if you ask me, he knew that we'd be there for each other. That we'd all be the crutches the other needed to stay standing. He also knew that we'd be so happy and excited to meet the baby and that we'd be too busy to stay sad for too long.
For me, I am just my siblings' half brother. I don't see a difference because half-siblings are all that I have from my mom and my dad. However, the rest of my dad's children are all full siblings. Beautifully, though, they love me just the same. They reintroduced me to some of their family that I had met before and introduced me to some that I hadn't. Where I lost my dad, I gained much, much more. I celebrated Christmas with their family and laughed so much that it gave me a headache.
That's the thing about parents. You may not know it, but they look out for you even through their death. My dad knew that we'd be fine. Probably not to the extent to say he knew that I'd gain more family and bond with my siblings, but he had to know something.
When you lose someone, there is a void created in your heart. The only way to get over it is to spend your time with people that can build bridges over the gap. For me, it was my family that did that: new, old, blood, and not blood. That kind of surprised me being that before the passing, the idea of spending too much time with people that were forced to love me because of some title made my stomach knot up. I think that my dad knew that I'd get over that and learn to appreciate the gift of family, who I now, see as people that will always love you, flaws and all.
So, I'd like to end by saying “Thanks, Dad.” His passing really opened my eyes to things. It let me know that it's okay to be sad when I hadn't let myself for so many months before. It taught me that there isn't a problem with being sentimental. Objects may not be able to keep people alive, but it can keep memories of them going. I know that all of this is exactly how he'd want everything to be.
