Ah, my friends. Today has been a turbulent one for me. Older Planetarians will recall my post here about my gorgeous Dad's Thanksgiving Service nearly a year ago. Today my Mum, my sister, my brother and I finally laid him to rest. I placed these flowers picked from our garden at his headstone.
When picking them, I was reminded so much of Dad's love of gardening and all I had learnt from him about it over the years.
I know he would have delighted in our daffodils, jonquils, snowdrops, lavender, penstemons and camellias.
I wrapped them in blue tissue paper and tied it with one of my favourite ribbons. I smiled to myself when wrapping them. I was about to cut a larger piece of paper than needed but then heard my thrifty Dad, who was born in the Great Depression years, chiding me for being wasteful so I used less!
We had a short and simple service with our kind minister at the cemetery. Tears trickled down my cheeks. But I smiled as I looked out onto the calm River Derwent, content that Dad has a view of the harbour he held so dear.
And then I tucked my tissue paper and ribbon into my bag. I am my father's daughter, after all! I'll make them into a little rosette or something pretty so I have a tangible reminder of the day.
My siblings and I then had another short but immensely moving little ceremony at a special family spot.
And then it was over.
I gently brushed away my salty tears as I drove home, my heart still aching. But gradually a sense of calm and peace started to seep into my bones.
It will take time. I just have to go with it. Feel it. Live it.
I'll get there. Wherever 'there' may be.
In a fortnight, it'll be the first anniversary of Dad's death. I have no idea how that will go.
But for now, I have happier things to focus on this weekend. Having my brother and his young family over from Adelaide for the weekend means some precious whole-of-family bonding time. Seeing our combined 7 children under 7 playing together will be heart-lifting. And then we have the excitement of seeing my new nephew christened on Sunday, wearing the smocked gown all the other 6 have worn to theirs.
So in between my salty tears, there will also be broad smiles and chuckles at the capers the cousins get up to. I know Dad will be beaming away at the sight, somewhere.
This post was featured in the August 2012 edition of the Post of the Month Club.
