Monday, June 7, 2004

A Final Gesture of Love

Yesterday, as well as being the 60th anniversary of D-Day, was my Dad's birthday.  It would've been his 90th.  I found myself thinking about him a great deal.  He was a wonderful father, a devoted husband and a true gentleman and gentle man in every sense.  In honor of his day, I thought I'd share this.

My mother died on September 21, l995.  Per her wishes and prearrangement, she was cremated.  A private outdoor service was held at her Episcopal church about one week later.  It was short and sweet with beautiful music we knew my mother had loved.  It was extremely difficult to get through.

This particular church had a flower garden in which a person's urn could be buried.  This was most cetainly a fitting final resting place for a woman who was a gardener extrodinaire and loved nothing better than digging in the dirt and coaxing plants of all kinds to grow.  In lieu of a tombstone, a little plaque engraved with the individual's name was set in the ground to mark the place.  My mother's name was Annette but she was always Anne and always with an "e".  She would always say the name didn't look finished without the "e" on the end.  A plaque for her was ordered and arrived in due time.  Of course, the "e" was missing from her name.  My dear father, not in the greatest of health, went about the business of ordering a replacement.

His health has been deteriorating for years and after Mother was gone, we all took turns going to the house to prepare dinner, encouraging him to eat, keep him company and help out in general.  The man was grief-stricken and as so many surviving halves of a couple are, lost without his wife.  They had been married for 56 years plus and had been together as a couple since they were both 14 years old. 

By December of 1995, my oldest sister decided it was time to move Daddy into her house to better care for him.  I think he was more than ready to leave the home he and Mother had lived in for their nineteen and some years of retirement.  It was at this time I inherited their dog, Lucy, a shepherd-lab mix who I treasured until the end of her life as my living legacy from my mother.

Weeks, months went by and no new plaque arrived.  Finally, somewhere in the third week of Februaryin 1996, the new plaque with Anne spelled correctly with an "e" arrived.  My brother-in-law drove my dad to the little garden at the Episcopal church and it was set in its proper place at long last.  My dad died that night.  The date was February 21, 1996--exactly five months after the death of my mother.

I truly believe he was just waiting patiently for that corrected plaque to arrive.  Couldn't leave this mortal world with unfinished business, you know.  This was something he just had to do for the love of his life before he could allow himself to exit quietly from this world into the next.

 

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Excellent reminisence!  My parents died exactly 5 months apart too.  Never would have counted on the "lost without each other" syndrome, myself, as they were fiercely independent and provided that example for us two girls, too.  But that's the way it went.  It has never occurred to me that I would be the one left, somewhat because I'm older and less healthy than hubby--but I am fairly certain I couldn't take the loss, and some power that be wouldn't put that on me.  I've been lucky all my life.  Perhaps because I had parents who never let me forget how lucky I am.
thanks for this neat entry.
~~mumsy

Anonymous said...

I'm sure my mother WANTED to die after Dad left...  She became very ill just after we found out about his cancer.  But it wasn't her time, yet.  She's still with us, and Dad has been gone for five years.  
Your Dad's is a beautiful, if sad, story.  I'm glad he was able to see the right plaque in place before he died.  Feel my comforting hand on your shoulder as you remember him.  Lisa  :-]    

Anonymous said...

Oh my......I got chills reading this entry. I believe you're right. He was waiting. How sweet a love story with no end, for they are together forever now.

Anonymous said...

What a beautiful story to share about your parents-brought a tear to my eye.

Jan

Anonymous said...

"The Ann with an 'e" is so much more distinguished looking, isn't it?"  I always loved Anne of Green Gables, another Anne with an E.  I do believe your father made the decision to make his passage after making sure that things were set right.  There are so many things we don't understand, but I know that they are together.

Anonymous said...

What  a very wonderuos tribute, I often wish that they both could have seen what would have been thier first great grandchild and to meet my wonderful husband, I like to think that they can see how happy I am with my family now :)