Sheri had arrived by this point and she was able to join us. I was glad for the company of a lot of family because I felt pretty dazed. It was so strange to be sitting there eating food while simultaneously I could not stop picturing dad's last few minutes on earth. I do think it was good and therapeutic and helpful to be with family out in the regular world. But also it was pretty strange. Also that night I remember that at dad's house, the food and flowers started showing up. Several of dad's missionaries and neighbors were so kind and reached out to us and tokens stared showing up that night. It was both overwhelming and just sweet and wonderful.
I guess I won't really go into detail about the daily events of the week, because we spent a lot of time planning together and getting ready for dad's funeral. We decided to hold the funeral on Saturday afternoon, to be preceded by a brief viewing then followed by a proper celebration of life at Stark's Funeral Parlor, complete with music and food and mingling and all the stuff we learned we love from mom's celebration.
With so much more family in town, my siblings and I weren't able to spend the same amount of just-us-four time together, which I was sad to let go of. But we still had a few opportunities. One thing we did, which I took a lot of pictures of but which I won't post because they may be alarming, was dress my dad's body in preparation for the funeral. I don't know if people in other religions do this. I think so. Dress the body in the clothing they will be buried in? I'm pretty sure that people are invited to do this. We chose to do it for my dad. I can only say that it was an amazing experience. It was so strange and bizarre to be with this thing that used to be my dad but clearly wasn't any more. But still totally was. I really think it was important for me to do this so I could understand in a concrete way that my dad was truly gone. I feel lucky still that I was able to see my mom's body after she passed. It was so hard and unsettling. But it was important. My siblings did not get to see her and I think they have had to really process that, especially my sister. So this experience with my dad felt really important. It felt sacred, for the four of us to gather around him and perform one last act of service for this person who did so much for us. There were also a couple of moments of levity - I mean, it was so surreal to be standing there with my dad's body. Nothing felt like reality. At one moment my brother Adam just looked at us and said, "....Uh....everything's under control, situation normal...." If you are familiar with the original Star Wars movie then you can hear good old Han Solo saying this and you will join me in laughing really hard. Oh my gosh we starting laughing so hard. But we also cried a lot and I'm glad I took pictures - so sweet to see my brothers gently tying dad's neck tie together. Us carefully placing his socks and buttoning his sleeves. After he was dressed we sat in the chairs around him and talked and processed more. I love that memory.
A quick note - dad still very much wanted his body to be donated to the University of Utah Medical Center just like mom. When mom passed, we had had years and years of her illness and weeks of her final decline with lots of visitors and support. She also looked really awful by the time she actually went and so we did not feel like we wanted or needed a viewing. Also I don't think we knew that it was possible to have a viewing if her remains were being donated. But with dad, with his illness being so quick and so shocking to so many people we really wanted to give people the opportunity to say goodbye. We were so happy to find out that Starks could do an altered embalming so that we could still donate to the University while having a viewing and funeral as well. We were extremely grateful for this.
The day of the funeral came. It really is quite impossible to describe the swirl and turmoil of feelings that happen on that day. Seeing the church absolutely filled with flowers sent by loving friends - just reading their names on the cards made me cry. Seeing the collection of dad's treasures - in fact instead of having a spray of flowers on top of dad's temporary casket we placed a quilt made up of squares each crafted by the missionaries of the Moscow South Mission where dad and mom served as mission presidents, then pieced together by one of mom's best friends Betsy. They've had that quilt in their house for 17 years. Plus all the other dear possessions of dad's, like some of his beloved golfing hats. That was heart-tugging to see. Then add the hoards and hoards of the dearest people in the world. All of the friends and cousins and neighbors. So many of my own friends, who have supported me for so long as my parents have aged and needed love and attention. And then all of the surprises. There was a trio of women I knew from growing up in Boulder, Colorado and I was so trilled to see them. I wished I could have talked to them more. Then our old neighbors the Durhams walked in, and who did they have with them but their son and one of my dearest friends, Troy, who flew in from Seattle to see us. I burst into tears when I saw him and was just so touched that he came. It was wonderful. Just absolutely over-flowingly wonderful.
The funeral itself was great. I loved my siblings' words so much. We each spoke. I think we each expressed later that we didn't feel great about our own talks but that we loved each other's. I still don't know why I didn't really love what I said, but since we all feel that way I guess we did okay. The real highlight though was a musical number - most of the younger grandkids plus all of the missionaries from dad's mission who were able to come, many flying in from all over the country, all got up together. The grandkids stood in front and sang the first verse of the primary hymn I Am a Child of God. Then the missionaries sang the second verse in Russian. Then they joined together on the third verse and the grandkids sang a descant, soaring high above the strong voices of the missionaries (who of course are in their late 30s now). It was such a well-known hymn, sung at thousands of funerals, but I have never heard anything like it. It was absolutely glorious. What a moment. I was so grateful to all those missionaries who showed up.
After the funeral we headed in a procession to Stark's Funeral Parlor to have a party. Dad's body was placed in a quiet sanctuary of a room, surrounded by photos and memorabilia and so many of his paintings. The rest of the place was more festive, with a jazz duo playing and a great slide show rolling and people delivering trays of food, our favorites being mini-sliders and little cups of the most delicious french fries. Dad of course needed burgers and fries at his party. He would have loved it. We stayed and stayed and stayed. I just soaked up the chance to be with people I knew I wouldn't see again for a long time. I was so grateful for every bit of support that was just heaped around us. So many hugs and smiling and teary faces. So many conversations and only one awkward guy trying to sell me a car. (Who was that guy?) It was such a great evening that it was very hard to leave.
As the guests finally all left our family got together in the sanctuary room and lingered for a very long time. I was a little sad - Romney had left because she was actually in a production that night and so missed the final moments we had together. There was this amazing moment that just sort of naturally happened, without being spoken at all, where we moved in around dad's casket and we gazed at him one last time, holding a perfect few minutes of silence. We cried together and said goodbye. How do you even describe moments like that?
I couldn't be more grateful for the way we were able to celebrate dad's life. Especially now, in July, after months of COVID19 restrictions, I realize just how very special that was, to have an unrestricted gathering of hundreds of people so dear to us. I still feel in shock, even now, realizing that both of my parents are gone. It's just so strange and lonely.
The next day, Sunday the 19th, my siblings and I went out for one last brunch together before they all returned home after a seriously intense 4 weeks. We were laughing that of course that was how we had to get closure. Sunday morning brunch. (Man we tried out a lot of really delicious places!) I really miss them a lot. Having them all to myself was an absolutely blessed gift. And now the challenge will be to find ways and times and reasons for us to be together again, without the anchor of a parent. The hub to our wheel is gone and so we the spokes will have to try much harder to meet in the middle from time to time. With all that is happening now, in this summer of 2020, it feels like that's a long ways away, but hopefully we will be together again soon.
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