We found out today that we are getting a pup from the Von Lindenhof Kennels S-Litter. His AKC name is Sebastian, but Camille is naming him Goose. Cute, strapping little fella, huh? We should be picking him up in a week from Saturday.
Have you ever been happy and sad at the same time? It happened to me on Tuesday, May 17, 2011. It was during my Dad’s funeral. My dad had had cancer for over a year when he died. We don’t know if the cancer killed him or if it as the result of the radiation treatment. I was sad to not have his wisdom and guidance. I was happy because all three of my children were there as were all three of my parents children and their children. I was happy because my older two children, my daughter, and my older son, had just graduated from college. My daughter had overcome a horrible first year of college that had set her back more than the year she spent at the small private college in South Carolina. My son had just graduated from arguably the toughest college in the nation and had just commissioned as a U. S. Marine and proposed to his girlfriend. There I was hearing people talk about how wonderful my dad had been to them. Which just pointed out that Chantilly Virginia is now short one terrific citizen.
It was strange hearing people say they were sorry for my loss, as if I had lost my dad. I did not lose him I know where he is and whom he is with, but I don’t know what he is doing. My dad had spent his last hours sleeping and struggling to breath. He could not close his mouth. Mom had checked on him several times during the night. However when Mom found him in the morning, he had a huge closed mouth smile. That tells me that dying was a wonderful event for him. Which makes me both happy and sad.
I doubt that he even knew that the next day was Mothers day, but I am certain that he spent Mothers day with his mother. I believe that for everyone who dies and goes to heaven that there is a greeting committee. I have had fun thinking about Dad’s greeters. For starters I am sure his parents and my uncle Jeff were in the group as was Nguyen Tran his Vietnamese foster son.
At the end of Dad’s funeral was a flag folding ceremony. The funeral director held one end of the flag as my son; Woody in his U. S. Marine uniform folded the flag. Woody then presented the flag to my Mom. As I looked over and saw her receive the flag, I could see that she was beaming with pride. Then my dad’s seven grandsons ushered the casket out of the church and lifted it into the hearse that was waiting.
What I did not hear at the funeral were stories of my dad as a rascally prankster. The one person who could have told those stories is Frank Cooksey, Dad’s best friend in high school and his best man. Frank may have told stories like that, but I didn’t hear them. Instead I overheard him talking with my daughter, Kelly about people she would enjoy contacting in New York City where she and her husband were heading.
