Overwhelmed

                                             

Overwhelmed is the only word that comes to me at this time in the morning.

Overwhelmed by the outpouring of comments, sympathies and condolences that all of you in the blogshere placed at my hurting heart. To say, “Thank You” is so inadequate. But, my heart is full of gratitude at your expressions and thoughtfulness over my loss.

My husband’s wishes were somewhat unconventional to the way that many have their funerals or final rites. His wish was that if he could not fight this terrible disease and win, he wanted the cancer totally destroyed. He chose to be cremated.

He didn’t want anyone to see his wasted body or the terrible ravaging that this disease leaves behind. He wanted there to be no remains of it left on this earth. Instead, he wanted those who knew him and loved him to gather at the church where he and I first met, celebrated our renewing of vows, and found the man that he called “Pastor”. He told the pastor the verses of scripture that he wanted the sermon to be based and then he said, “Have church”.

So, as the church filled to capacity, a power point presentation played showing the years of his life. Those years when he was a baby, the birthday parties, the grandmothers that he loved and cherished so well. They showed the school years, he in his ROTC uniform, his first car and of course, his motorcycles. Then the years of his children and the stages of their growth.

As I watched, I remember what he said about the memories of those years when he lived a different life than he had with me. I felt a pange of jealousy that I didn’t have those years. Years where we would have beenyoung and having a family between us…but that faded away when the pictures of our life appeared a definate and noticeable change came over him. He had soften. He smiled often and it was captured. He was truly happy.

The final scenes were those of his living legacy. The legacy of families that are left behind to walk in his footsteps. Each showed the adult children and their children. The circle of life continues and it produced these fine and wonderful people.

Indulge me a moment to recount his legacy. His oldest son, my son is a Disabled Veteran from the first Persian Gulf war. My husband’s pride to be in my son’s life at the time he joined the Marines was tangible. He had a sticker on our vehicle that said, “Proud Parent of a US Marine” and he was so proud that he had a son, it didn’t matter that it was a step son, it was his son, that was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for his country if need be. And my son has made many sacrifices for his country. He lives them everyday through the pain that is constantly in his body from his service related injury.

My husband oldest child and son is a entrepreneur and city counselman in the city in which he lives in Washington State. He has always been political minded and he has worked on several campaigns of past congressmen. His burning desire is for the American family and its values. He is an accomplished young man and even though he and his father walked to the beat of different drums, there was always pearls of wisdom shared. “Son, cherish your wife and be sure that you have some trade to fall back on when times get hard.” These were just a few. 

His oldest daughter is a full time mother and homemaker. She has a new baby, my husband’s namesake. When she did work, her tender heart lends itself to those in nursing facilities. Her talents make her invaluable to activities in  nursing homes as she plays her guitar and her beautiful voice fills space and time of those who have only have space and time.

Then there are the faces of the grandchildren. Each one filled with delight. Living footprints in the sands of time. He loved being their “PapPap”. And, they loved him. My oldest grandson carried a little folder full of pictures that he and his PapPap drew with him to the service. That was his tribute. It is the grandchildren’s future that will cause him to smile as he watches from Heaven’s Door.

Each of the adult children played a part in the arrangements. My son was my strong arm as I leaned on him to help guide and protect me through the jungle of final arrangements. Believe me, I found the funeral business a difficult one as it is so easy to take advantage of people in grief. I was fortunate that my son and daughter in law found someone who was willing to follow my husband’s wishes without pushing “pachages” that included unnecessary and unwanted things down my throat.

We were fortunate to find someone who would work with us. I am very grateful to the people of this establishment that worked with me despite my lack of funds. They were a Godsent.

My husband’s children decided to honor their father with their musical talents. They are conciderable and somehow, someway, they lifted their voices and presented a tribute to their father and lead all of us in his favorite hymns. He would have been so very proud. I know that I was.

Then came a time for those who wanted to share their memories of my husband. There were stories and tales full of life and laughter. From finding the eggs on his grandmother’s farm and throwing them at the girl cousins, to the sharing of his life changing experiences from when he first moved to this community and made a friend of my cousin. And then his brother shared things that only brothers know. What a special snapshot of a life in progress from beginning to end.

Then came my husband’s witness. In that fact, it was clear that as radical as he lived  before  Christ, he was going to live as radical for  Christ and that witness and testimony rang out in that sanctuary. He was a wounded warrior in every way, but in death, he won final victory over all things. And his love for Christ was shown forth by the testimony of his mouth to his pastor.

A very special person also came. My husband’s physician came to the Memorial. Most doctors don’t make housecalls. This wonderful young man came to his patient’s memorial. I can’t think of anything that vexes a doctor more than loosing a patient to death, but this young man helped my husband prepare for his final journey. He truly is one in a million and we are so fortunate to have had him as a “hub” of my  husband’s care. It meant a lot to me to see him there.

I was alone for the majority of the day. There were times that I could feel his presence. I don’t know why, but I remembered how he would always say, “Baby, make me look good.”…I smiled as I thought about the first time he said that to me. The “femenist” side of my nature wanted to knock him into next week, but today, I understood more about what he meant when he said that statement and I wanted him to be proud of me.

So, I finally got my hair cut and styled. For so long, there wasn’t time for that sort of thing. My daughter in law helped me find a dress.  Because my drastic weight loss was so much,  nothing I had fit me. 

As the day progressed, I carefully laid out the dress, shoes and accessories and everything pertaining to what to wear.  As, I walked out of the door to go to the church, I silently whispered in my mind, “Baby, I am making you look good now.” and smiled a little smile.

He always admired women and he was never stingy with compliments …somewhere in the inner recesses of my mind, I heard him say…”Stunning” and I was ready to go.

There were tears of sorrow, joy and laughter.  All hearts were full of heaviness and gratitude for knowing a man that as one friend said, ” He had a quality that I call ‘Stardust’. He entered a room and his prescense was known and he didn’t even have to say a word.”

He was celebrated and honored for the multifacted man that he was. A biker with a no nonsense way about him, a musician that thrilled to the classical masters, an artist and sculptor. He was a Renascence man in every way.

I am honored to have been his wife and now I am honored to be his widow. It will always be my honor to have loved such a unique and complex man because he was my soul mate…and I am overwhelmed that out of all the women in the world, he chose me…

There are hard days ahead. I will continue to become more familiar with this word called, “Overwhelmed”, there is no other path to take but one step, one day, one moment and place the next foot ahead and at that rate.