This is what I'm thinking (of course completely subject to change): I'd like to release butterflies, of course this is fairly contingent on the weather because it has to be above 62 degrees for them to take flight. I had wanted to do a dove, but Kelly didn't really like the idea of the dove being all alone, and with butterflies anyone who comes can release one if they chose. I'm not necessarily decided upon having a big thing at the graveside. Since the 1st is on a Monday, I don't really want to jack up a lot of peoples work schedules, just those who want to do whatever we do directly on the first. To be honest, I was thinking about just having a prayer/memorial thing graveside on Sunday, that way those who are out of town, or who cant miss work (or don't want to and I don't blame you), can attend if they so choose. I know Dad touched a lot of people's hearts and lives, and I want those who knew him (and for that matter, the ones who didn't but 'know' him through us) to be able to participate. I imagine we'll find someone's house to go to afterwards and have some food, I mean that is Queen tradition, and heck who knows, probably some alcohol (u didn't hear me say that!). Monday, I intend on going to the 9 am mass, or maybe its 830 now, but in either case, not the crack o dawn one!
I'm not trying to make a huge deal out of this, but a lot has changed in 10 years, and I just think if those of us who can get together do, we can do a little reminiscing about the wonderful man we were lucky enough to know. For me, especially recently, Dad has been on my mind a lot, and although it weighs on my heart heavily, its nice to reminisce.
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I found this on the web the other day, and I thought it was quite profound - Just want to share it with you:
Shifting the Sun
When your father dies, say the Irish, you lose your umbrella against bad weather.
May his sun be your light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Welsh, you sink a foot deeper into the earth.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Canadians, you run out of excuses.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the French, you become your own father.
May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians.
When you father dies, say the Indians, he comes back as the thunder.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Russians, he takes your childhood with him.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the English, you join his club you vowed you wouldn't.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Armenians, your sun shifts forever.
And you walk in his light.
-Diana Der-Hovanessian
I also found this quote, which I don't think could sum up Dad's memory any better:
I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love. -Leo Buscaglia
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