Red Roses 3
June 15th of this year was the second anniversary of the day my father died. I had a very emotional day. What was surprising was not that I had emotion, but how much of it there was. I couldn't listen to a single piece of music without becoming overwhelmed with tears.
These were the feelings I didn't have time for, two years ago: there was too much to be done. And I carried the vast burden of it, it felt like at the time; far more than I could deal with. I tensed up, and kept myself from feeling too much. I shunted these feelings into the future, where there would be more time to deal with them. That time is now.
Dad had a major sweet tooth, even though he was diabetic. Towards the end, he indulged himself a little. Not so much that he made himself sick. But his philosophy was, better to enjoy it now, because later you won't be able to. I can't really argue with that; and I don't want to. Dad would have appreciated this set of remembrance roses being next to the candy bowl. And the pretty chocolate and peanut spheres would have suffered gradual attrition, appreciated each time they slowly disappeared.
Labels: family history, ritual, roses
posted by Art Durkee at 12:48 AM
2 Comments:
A moving post, beautifully presented and one that I am sure your dad would have appreciated as much as the roses and the sweeties. My dad died a few years ago: I can relate to your feelings.
Hi, Dave, and thanks.
I feel like I'm circling around this material a lot, spending almost too much time with it. But that IS the point of a remembrance ritual, and as you know, those feelings around a father's death go very deep, and can take time to be worked through.
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