Keeping a Piece of Dad

When my Dad died last year, there was so much to deal with: paying bills, figuring out what to do with his house, dealing with family, sorting through his belongings.  I remember at one point expressing anger about family that wasn’t even very close to him pining away on social media when I didn’t feel like I even had time to grieve his loss… and then, of course, feeling horribly selfish the moment the words were out of my mouth .  She said, “It’s one of the things you don’t know before you lose someone.  The people who should be given the most time and room to grieve are often the ones who don’t have the opportunity until the person is long gone.”  There were moments, though, when I felt his loss keenly.  When my mother, brother, and I were going through his house and I was surrounded by the remnants of his life… that was especially hard.  There was so much stuff and I felt like I should keep something that he loved, but we were under time pressure and the logical, task-master part of my brain had kicked the sentimental part squarely in the butt.  I just didn’t want anything.

Fast forward to Christmas and the family gift exchange:  I opened the small gift box my mother handed me to find a beautiful fountain pen with my name inscribed on it.  When I picked it up to look closer, I saw that it had my father’s name inscribed on the other side.  My Dad and I have both always loved pens.  My mother had found the pen with his name engraved on it when we were going through his belongings, and she took it to a jeweler to have it cleaned and engraved with my name, as well.  It was one of the most meaningful gifts I’ve ever received. – A, 41

How amazing is it when family has your back?