When the dance ends.

Nearly fifty years ago, a handsome young farmer with a sheepish smile and wavy hair asked a shy young woman to dance. They later fell in love, married and kept on dancing through life together. Last week however that dance came to an end, my Dad passed away. I never got the chance to say what I was building myself up to say, I was in town when I wrote the last post and when I returned home, he had just passed away two hours before I got there. I struggled with this for days, I had been with him since March and the minute I left, he passed. The first week I kept waking up in the night with the weight of knowing I will never see him again, plus the things I wanted to say to him that I never did or could not. I would be overcome with a feeling of being smothered or as if drowning. I spoke to my mother about it and since telling her, the feeling has not returned.

My Dad was very much a people person, he was not loud or did not seek attention, yet he had no problem with meeting people any place he would go. I envied that ability, I am the opposite, I find it hard to meet someone or even to talk to people that I do not know very well. The result was a beautiful service, people had to stand outside of the church since there was such a crowd and Dave said that was a tribute to the person he was. I felt I needed to give the eulogy, my family thought someone else should do it, they only know me as this shy quiet person and were afraid I would get up and cry or worse, pass out. I knew I could write one, I felt that other people did not know Dad as we knew him, I think having the blog to express my feelings gave me the courage and confidence to do it. Since I was not there as my mother and sister were to comfort him in his last hour, this was the best way to say good bye to him. It went well, some of the people who are really close to us, said it gave them chills with how it stirred images of my father in their minds, those kind comments have helped me over these last few days.

She cries at night, my mother that is and it breaks my heart whenever I hear her. Mom was raised that emotions are a private matter and must not be shared or shown, she holds strong for us during the day and in fact mom never cries. I never saw my mother really cry other than a few tears in her eyes until now, however at night I hear her soft sobs over the loss of Dad, her partner in life who has left her alone.

We will get through this, other people had to, it takes time I know. It feels like everything is just sitting there waiting for him, his tools, his old truck and his farm but he is not coming back, the dance has ended. Love you Dad, miss you....forever.