FAREWELL

Loss swallowed my world after his final breath. I felt broken by emptiness, drowning in uncried tears, begging for release. In my disconnected moments, my heartache was all-consuming.

I truly believed I might suffocate from the tightening grip of sorrow.

I suckled at grief as if I were a lonely, helpless child…

My siblings needed me and I needed them but, I had to be strong. They looked at me and I could not bear to look away. Their eyes reflected their deep sorrow and I knew I needed to comfort them. We all wanted to offer Dad a beautiful and fitting farewell and they asked me if I would write it. Of course, I agreed. I gently took their painfully bled words to blend with mine, to speak as one voice, in a heartfelt eulogy to honour our beloved Father.

The picture of our family’s grief was now tattooed on my soul. I felt I had fallen into an abyss of emotions, cowering in the shadow of my early shame when nobody knew me or my natural name. I could feel regret building and my self-blame stalking behind me, but time would not bend to entertain my emotions and low self-esteem. My trusted autopilot was on. Everything would be okay... I’d be fine… I can do this, I thought...

Travelling to the funeral home, clenching my hands in silent prayer, I feared I may lose my voice and be unable to speak for myself and my siblings. Despair seemed to feast on my fear, longing to tear the meat from my weary bones. Already, I felt anxious, naked and wingless, like a bird trapped in a cage. My attempt at pretence was weak, I tried to hide it and I wondered if comfort would ever come for me…

We arrived and three ravens perched on the entry fence as if to offer me solace. Songbirds’ melodies filled the willow trees cloaking me in calm. Everything at that moment was so beautiful until the car door opened revealing a black hearse… All the serenity faded away like it never existed at all.

I thought they could see me shaking, their sad, sullen faces staring at me as I stepped up to the podium and took a depth breath...

I spoke of all the wonderful, happy days, the gratefulness and respect we had for him, the pride we had for all he had achieved in his amazing life and most importantly, the unconditional love he had for all of us. At first, their eyes appeared preoccupied and strangely dull, but, gradually, like a flower unfurling, our shared memories of him brought a glow back to their faces and light to their eyes. Tentatively they smiled and nodded to the tales of my Father’s 80 years, they lifted their bowed heads, the eulogy had temporarily replaced their tears.

Haunting rituals of his internment lingered in my mind as the Autumn sun dipped below the poplars and the lake flies gathered to announce the evening’s dance. Even amid great pain and despite the immense loss, hope rose with the moon, like a perfect pearl piercing an inky sky. It was a warm peaceful April evening. I shall never forget that sombre moon glowing among the lights of a trillion stars. It felt like healing rays of comfort upon my aching heart.

The last time I saw his handsome face, I feared my purpose was lost forever. I kissed his brow one last time. For all my living days I will hold the image of him lovingly in my mind. He was so wise and always said, "Wendy don't look back, there's nothing there for you anymore, move forward and live your best life". Yes, I shall always miss, my beloved Father, always...

© Wendy Phelan - 2019/Edited 2022

A dedication to my Father, John Martin Phelan, 28 March 1936 - 1 April 2016