The token is a fabulous personalised idea to see your Dad off on his final great adventure.
I did want to share my thoughts on a previous post about writing the eulogy but as you know I have had a few matters that have taken me away the last week or so. When we have to create the very best words and gestures to say a heartfelt, loving goodbye we become all consumed with making sure the gesture honours the person in exactly the right detail and covers everything perfectly.
We understand that we can not fit in all of the memories and nuances and multi-faceted aspects of an entire life and a myriad of relationships, but man, how we try. We always feel that we missed something incredibly important and likely we are right, likely there are tens of thousands of things we would somehow like to encapsulate. The part that puts the most pressure on us ((even though it an absolute labour of love)) is that whole 'honouring them' correctly idea.
Always remember that you would all have honoured your Dad so, so many times when he was here and of course you are doing so now. The way you live your lives as his family every day is a massive testament to the man who set you on the path. I am sure Mum is in your thoughts massively right now too, so I wanted to take a moment to mention her.
I am certain that she will/would be utterly filled with pride at the family she and Dad raised and feels honoured in so many ways by the people you have all grown to become too.
When my Nana died. I have zero hesitation in saying that she was my life and the reason I grew in to a man at all. My token was less classy but oh-so-relevant. I placed some cigarettes and lighter next to her along with some bingo marker pens, tea bags and a story and a poem I wrote about her life in my first ever attempt to write for cathartic benefit. I knew there were things she could not manage without and felt the need to make sure they were close at hand. Strange the rituals we undertake, humans are bizarre.
Take good care Brother, your words will be filled with love and crafted to the absolute best of your ability and doubtless a fitting send of to the man you call Dad.
Duly noted on the Lego by the way :)
I think your Nana would have appreciated those items! I have made up those tokens for the same reason as you did. I called my mum's mother Nana also, by the way. Funny that, huh? On my dad's side it was grandma.
I've pretty much done the eulogy...Just have to go through it again and proof it a couple times...I'll have it done, along with the other messgaes all typed, printed and ready by tomorrow night.
We are taking one of my dad's paintings to the funeral home to place next to his coffin at the service, some photos frames and his remembrance cards also...Final meeting with the funeral directors Thursday morning and then we're good to go for Monday.
I believe my dad is already in a better place, that he is with my mum. I don't know where it is, or what it might be like but he is at peace. He believed the soul leaves the body after death and that funerals are for those left behind. I agree with him. He will always be with me and I believe will be there on Monday to help ease our loss and to remind us that life goes on.
Yup my Mums Mum too. Funny that she was 82 when she left and I still classed her as one of my greatest ever mates. Wicked sense of humour, so warm and always surprised at how everyone she met liked her. I forget whether it was you or Taraz who said that your Dad had a sincerity that was disarming, yes that is how I would describe my Nana too.
The painting is a wonderful touch, I'm sure he would be thrilled at that.
You and I have a very similar thought about what happens after life! I was given several glimpses a few years back that reinforce that
beliefknowledge massively I have never been the same man since. That transformation in me taught me more than anything else that no matter how brutal life seems at times, no matter how cruel fate can seem and no matter how much these things leave us feeling trampled and broken at times. The story is far bigger than I ever dared believe.Thinking of you all my friend. Sorrow and optimism so often come as an entwined pair.