“I believe that is why I felt so many little spirits at your altar. Gathered like little bird minds flying about. Gathering around you in support of what was coming. They went with you there, I am certain”.. these were the words given to me the day before the funeral.. the day the three crows came to visit. Before we left, I had had a terrible nightmare and I was worried that I wouldn’t make it in time, but I did. It was so much not my dad, that skeletal form lying there gasping for air in that bed. He was past talking but he cried as we all gathered around him. That was the first and the last time I was to see my father cry.. he went very early that arrival morning. I spent what few minutes of quiet time I could past that out on the snowy porch where he used to take his coffee and cigarette. He was so tired and so tired of being tired in those last months before the cancer had set in deep.
It’s funny the things that run through your mind.. the little things that didn’t seem important at the time of life. I thought of the teddy bear I had in my closet still that he had bought me as a child.. years before I had gotten to know the man he was. I thought of how he always wore old jeans and well worn button downs. I don’t think I had ever seen him dressed up. I always thought he looked a little like a skinny Santa. I thought of the seashell mobile hanging in my bathroom that we argued over.. how I didn’t want him to spend the money. It was from one of our few ocean trips. He loved the ocean as much as I and we tried to make at least one trip whenever he visited. I will always regret that we had not made it there that one last time. When everything was all done and set away, I spent one last evening out there with a cup of coffee and a lit candle. Tomorrow, the everyday awaits and I am still not sure that I am ready.