January 2, 2006

I'm home. I spent the rest of the week after Danny's funeral at my Mama's house. My sis lives right next door and between the two of them, they were able to keep me comforted in a way almost no one else can.

It's been a long week. Elizabeth and I went to Mama's Monday evening. Then Tuesday morning, my brother in law hooked up the RV and we headed to Mississippi. Elizabeth and I drove her little car. Mama, sis, and her husband drove the pickup truck pulling the camper. It took us nearly 6 hours to get to the RV park, which was situated somewhat between Corinth and Walnut, MS.

We ate, then got dressed to go to the church for visitation. In the South, when visitation is at the church, it's an all night wake. A lot of food was brought in to the fellowhip hall. A lot of people came and went, offering condolences. My family went back to the camper around 8 PM. I stayed till..well, I don't know what time now. Two of Danny's brothers took turns sitting up at the church. Others, too, I'm sure but I don't know who now.

The next morning I got up early, ate breakfast, showered, and dressed. Then headed back over to the church. The funeral was scheduled for 2 PM but I wanted to spend as much time as I could there before then.

The rest of my children, except one, came the next morning. One of the boys wasn't able to get there at all. But it was good to have 4 of them with me anyway. I'll be planning a memorial service locally so that those who could not attend the funeral will have an opportunity to attend that.

The funeral was done according to things Danny had told several of us. That included what he wore and the music he loved the most - music by the Happy Goodmans. Two songs by Michael W. Smith were spoken like poetry. They were ones I selected as my tribute to Danny. One was "Friends" and the other was "Live Forever".

Many people sent flowers. Many signed the visitor book. Many brought food. I have so many to thank for their kindnesses, but most of all Danny's brothers and sisters, who got together and paid for the funeral.

I think the worst times for me were when I had to really say good-bye to him before they closed the casket. It was almost more than I could bear. I cried hard and wound up tucking my tissues into his shirt pocket. Then, when the funeral director started to close the casket, I wept again. That made the finality of it all so real to me.

I have Danny's watch and his wedding band. At one point, after the burial, I thought I'd lost the ring. I was beside myself. It wasn't in the car. It wasn't on the ground at the church or at the cemetary. And by the time we returned to the gravesite, the workers had already used machines to move and smooth the dirt. I thought for sure it was buried with him after all. Later, though, I found it in the bottom of my purse. It apparently had fallen off my finger and gone straight to the bottom, under all the stuff I had in there. I was overjoyed to find it!

My sister went to the casket with me the last time, and held onto me tight. Then, Elizabeth just broke down completely, weeping and saying, "He can't go...he can't go now!" #3 son had to help her walk out to the car for the burial.

Elizabeth is the "baby" and only 18. That's really young to lose your father and know he won't be there to walk you down the aisle when you get married, won't be there to see your babies. What Elizabeth felt openly, is, I'm sure, what Brandon felt inwardly. Now, no father to guide him on into adulthood, and maybe feeling like adulthood has been thrust upon him before he was really ready.

The two older children who were there were every bit as sorrowful. See, he wasn't their real Daddy. Their Daddy died in 1994. Danny and I have been married for 21 years, which means they loved Danny, too. He called them his children when anyone asked. "We went to my daughter's for ___ dinner." "My son came over with his kids." "My son just moved back to Arkansas." And he looked on the grandchildren as his own. Indeed, he's the only grandfather they have known on this side of the family. The son who wasn't able to come, came on Christmas Eve to support me and help us when it was time to move furniture so the funeral home could pick Danny up.

We've all been grieving and will miss Danny so much. I'll miss him making us coffee. I'll miss our conversations about trucks and goats and fishing and future plans. I'll even miss picking his socks up off the living room floor.

Now, I have various kinds of business to attend to on my own. Every decision is mine and I don't have Danny to confer with. I have no doubt I'm fully capable of doing this, but that's not the problem. The thing is, I liked being married to Danny. I loved him. I still love him.

Now, I lean even more heavily on God to guide my decisions and my path.