My first time alone...

It was the sky yesterday that reflected my inner turmoil the most. In the midst of blue and sunshine and warmth, dark clouds formed and rain poured down from that one spot overhead... while the sun streamed all around.  Its exactly how I have been feeling... sunshine around the edges of the thunderstorm of grief.

It was a rough week...

Monday, the 19th, two weeks after my Dad passed away, his older brother Marvin joined him in his heavenly home.

I felt ripped open even wider.

On Wednesday, my computer hard drive crashed. Locked within are all of my photos from Dad's funeral and the week or so before that.

On Thursday, our internet stopped working which actually is kind of funny when you think about it. What isn't funny is how slow it is now as the provider tries to fix it.

On Friday we drove to Marvin's funeral which is almost 4 hours from where we live and is the place where my dad grew up.



The tidal wave of emotion that flooded over me as the "big cow" loomed in front of us... caught me off guard. You just know, don't you, that we played "who will be the first to see the cow?" back when we drove an old brown 1970 Ford Galaxy 500, the speed limit was 55 and it felt like we drove to the end of the world to get to New Salem.










My senses were flooded.  The sweet smell of wheat ready for harvest.  The sea of purple, otherwise known as flax, carpeting the sides of the road.  The red scoria rock covered gravel roads that leave a rusty film of dirt on your car as you travel out in the country.  The friendly waves from every car you meet on the road.  The smell of candy mixed in with wooden floors and medicine at the drugstore my other uncle used to own on the main street.

Everywhere, I turned, I was reminded of Dad.  I realized at some point this was my very first time ever visiting New Salem, without my Dad.  Although, I am sure he was with us most of the day.

During the sermon at the funeral I had to remind myself they were talking about Marvin because I've heard the same words said about my dad.  They were gentle, quiet, trustworthy, faithful, hard workers, who loved their families.  I also heard the word "sentimental."  I think they portrayed Marvin "just right."

While Dad's casket had tools inside, Marvin's had tractors wedged into the flowers on top.






The funeral was held in town, but burial took place out behind the old Bethel country church. We used to attend church out there when we visited Grandma. I was entranced with its simple beauty as my cousin gave us a tour inside. Its in some disrepair, but still used on occasion.





Whenever we came to visit, Dad was in his glory and loved socializing after church with all the people that were always so happy to see him. He would have loved knowing his grandchildren got a chance to see the church.





Marvin was blessed with 13 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren.  My own two boys were even given balloons to release as well.  And do you know where those balloons headed?


... as we held our breath, they flew up over the trees, into the sky and headed collectively... straight to the family farm... there were lots of chuckles as they hurried on their way.


A kind gentlemen showing the kids where the farm is at, after reassuring them there are no snakes in the grass.


After driving past the farm that was recently sold to another family, we headed for home.  I left with a sense of knowing where I come from.  I gathered a couple of wild sunflowers from along the road... just call me sentimental.



On our way home, we stopped by Valley City, where my dh's family farmstead resides. The boys enjoyed standing in the wheat fields.




I shouldn't have been surprised to find a few pieces of wheat tucked into the back seat of the car... they're learning as well.  Their Grandpa would be so proud.