I’m not a fan of funerals, and neither was my father. He always felt that no words could truly express the thoughts that went through the minds of family and friends, or the pain that was felt. I never realized how true that was until I lost my father.
There are no words to state the sadness that I have felt, or the thoughts that are going through every person’s mind. We all have different memories of my father, and different things that will make us sad.
My father used to love to go hunting with my Uncle Roger, and to enjoy Sunday dinner at my grandmother’s house. He was fond of church, and a devout Christian.
As we all gather today, instead of me telling you of my memories, let us all take a brief moment to reflect on our own personal memories with my father.
*moment of silence*
Now that we have those memories, I’d like for everyone to take a heart as they walk out of the room, and write that memory down. You don’t have to put your name on it, but then place it in the wooden box on the table to the left. We will put them all together, and if anyone would like a copy please list your name and address in the book displayed next to the box.
I’d now like to close with a poem.
“Miss Me But Let Me Go”
When I came to the end of the day,
And the sun has set for me
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not too long
And not with your head bowed low
Remember the love we once shared
Miss me, but let me go
For this is a journey we all must take
And each must go alone
It’s all part of the maker’s plan
A step on the road to home
When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go to the friends we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds
Miss me, but let me go.
This is how I feel my father would want us to grieve. He would not want us to all cry for months, but instead would want for us to let him to go. He would want for us to be kind to one another, and to be there for each other, and to continue on our own journey.