Do not stand at my grave and weep…

Today we laid my father to rest. The sun shone behind thick clouds. A gentle mist came and went, stopping just in time for the funeral and starting again after my father’s ashes were interred. My grandfather had arranged a full military ceremony at Mt Tahoma National Cemetery. The Air Force was there, as was the honor guard led by my Grandfather. It was a perfect tribute to a man who served his country well. His praises were spoken, and his courage in duty was highlighted. It was nice to have my Daddy, the hero presented. It was a beautiful tribute to a wonderful, strong man who needed a little support after being so strong for so long. I am so grateful that we were able to honor him in the way that I knew him best.

A gun salute was done, taps was played and a final role call was given. The flag was given to my mother after being solemnly folded by young airman in addition to three spent rounds representing Duty, Honor, and Country. I miss him terribly, and I imagine that I always will, but it felt good to have this process complete.

My Grandmother chose this ¬†poem for my Grandfather to read at today’s ceremony, and I feel it is an appropriate way to end this post, this day and this part of my life. To you, Daddy. May you find the peace in passing that you were searching for in life. I love you so much.

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die. 
Mary Elizabeth Frye