PREFACE
When Ellie and I returned to Albania a few weeks ago, we brought back with us a number of my Dad's belongings that we thought might bless some of our friends and neighbors here.
One of those items was his last smart phone which he hadn't used in more than a year, as the ravages of his disease stole his ability to utilize it.
Nathan charged it up and turned it on to see the specs and see what personal information might need to be deleted before gifting the phone to someone else who had need of it.
"Look at this!" Nathan said, showing me the home screen.
Dad was never really that technologically savvy, as much as he wanted to embrace it. I had no idea what Nathan was going to show me. Maybe a photo? A text message long forgotten?
There on the home screen were a handful of icons. The news, the weather, and .... a short-cut to this blog. That was it.
All of a sudden, I felt that wave of grief hit again. That reminder of loss and something forgotten.
My slack in blogging this past year was connected to my slow loss of Dad. It was he who gave me my love for photography and the written word. It was he who gave me feedback on my photos and posts and prodded me if the silence got too lengthy. It was how we kept in touch -- my reports from daily life and his replies.
As his mind clouded with where he was or what was happening, as he lost his ability to hold a conversation, or dictate messages for mom to send me by e-mail or text, our connection drifted. I hadn't even realized how his feedback and affirmation fed this regular form of my journaling.
The post below has sat in cyber space for more than a month... it hasn't felt finished, but I will go ahead and hit the orange "publish" button and let it go. It's basically a collection of my favorite photos from the week we said goodbye to Dad, along with their accompanying long 'captions.' It feels a bit morose, but I strangely don't want to forget.
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When my sisters and I were young, little girls Dad gave each of us nicknames. I was 'spider' for my long, skinny fingers, arms and legs. Jenny (born in June) was his "June bug", and Hannah was (grass) hopper. Over the years he would collect little spiders, lady bugs, and grasshoppers to dot the house and represent us. We also received our share of insect gifts to know he was thinking of us.
The morning of the day of the visitation as we were selecting our clothes and accessories, Mom walked out of her bedroom with a tin candy box in her hand. Inside she had found these handmade pins (below). I had never seen them before! At some point in time a while ago, he must have had these made. I don't know why we had not seen them earlier, except that Mom found them just when we needed them. A last gift, of sorts, from Dad. That evening at the visitation, each of us I wore our respective pins to honor him.
The morning after his passing, Mom and I paid a visit to the funeral home. It was a blessing that their neighbor, Travis, was a funeral director and very kindly assisted us through all the decisions we had to make. I will spare you photos of selecting his casket and vault, but I did snap quite a few to send Jenny so she could be included in the decision process.
Our first assignment after we left was writing his obituary and providing a photo to the funeral home. In anticipation of creating a tribute to dad through photos, I had brought a number of my favorite from Albania. Nevertheless, we struggled to find that photo which was 'just right.' Dad always seemed to be wearing a hat. However, we finally settled on one which we felt represented Dad before he started to decline, where he was dressed smartly, and where he wasn't wearing a hat! As for writing the obituary, we passed that on to my brother-in-law Seth (aka 'the writer') who did a beautiful job. You can read that here.
Earlier in the week we visited the florist and selected flowers for the service. Mom wanted bright, happy colors.
Once the flowers were selected, (below) we chose Dad's shirt and tie colors to coordinate (of course)! He was buried in the suit he wore to Seth and Bug's wedding...
We went down to the farm house to prepare it for the post-funeral dinner. One of Dad's hats was still sitting on a side table.
We opted to design and print a program for the service so we could give the order of the service as well as convey some special thanks to those who helped to make Dad's service so meaningful.
Thursday evening came and we made our way to the funeral home for the visitation.
The floral arrangement from the grandchildren below... Sunflowers representing Ellie, Cornflowers representing Reni, Carnations representing Tua, and Irises representing Pippa.
The ribbon bears the name by which they called him, Gjysh. (Albanian for 'grandfather').
While folks waited in line to greet us Thursday evening, they passed a table with a copy of the death notice posted on our home in Albania, some candies from Albania (a traditional gift when one visits the home to offer condolences) in an alabaster bowl (also from Albania), and a looping video of tributes to Dad by some of our friends in the village.
One thing few probably knew about Dad was that he was always concerned that we dress well. After a summer of detasseling, we would go shopping for school clothes and Dad usually selected the majority of the clothes that I ended up purchasing for the next school year! He was really good at spending my money, ha ha. :-)
With that in mind, I wanted to take extra care in looking nice for Dad's service and bought a new dress and had Jenny help me with my hair. Mom wore a necklace that he bought her on a trip to visit his cousin. I think Dad would have approved of his girls. :-)
Dad's service took place at 3:00 on Friday afternoon, June 29 at Crosswalk Fellowship in Delavan. As a family, we gathered in a back room before the service commenced. Below, Mom with Uncle Jerry.
Nathan's brother, Stephen, led the service and prayed for us all before it began.
My childhood friend and fellow photographer, Kelly McCormick, blessed us with many of the following photographs.
There were a lot of kids present at the service and they all behaved wonderfully!!
Due to delays in Chicago, Seth and my nieces, Tua and Pippa, missed the visitation the night before. They got a chance to see Dad one last time before the service began.
Mom chose this video to open the service and set the tone...
We received a lot of kind words about Stephen's handling of the service...
My cousin, Dallas, shared some touching words... and then had us all laughing as he recounted some of Dad's tall tales he was known for spinning.
As he said, "Just as Uncle David would have had it..."
Nathan live-streamed the service via Facebook so our friends in Albania and our family around the country (and world) could take part.
My grandfather had the wonderful idea that the funeral motorcade drive a route to the cemetery that went by most of the ground that Dad farmed during his 46-year career. Our neighbor and friend, Chris James, who now farms the ground on the family's behalf, rode in the lead car and had the motorcade slow to a stop as we approached the first field, the first ground Mom and Dad purchased on their own and affectionately called Ponderosa. It was extremely touching and the tears started anew as we followed Dad by the land where he had spent so much of his life planting, cultivating, fertilizing, watering, and harvesting.
When we turned a corner, we were stunned to see the number of cars, as far as we could see, following behind us with their lights flashing, following us on the 30-minute drive to Forest City. I caught the image below of the end of the line. We were humbled and overwhelmed by the support.
My brother-in-law, Seth, posted the following about this part of the day:
...we buried the father of my bride. He was laid to rest beside his ancestors in the small family plot outside Forest City, Illinois. His was a life lived with intentionality and purpose. The weight of his passing finally hit me as the processional route passed the fields in which he had spent a lifetime, and in which I had been fortunate enough to work along side him for few summers and the occasional weekend during college years. The corn rows stood tall as the mourners moved west, a sort of honor guard to a man who understood that transcendent truth behind the alchemy of soil and seed, and who was able to communicate this to so many. Under the shade of an ancient hackberry tree, surrounded by acres of soybeans and seed corn ripening in the June sun, we said our final farewell.
One of Dad's attributes we repeatedly repeatedly as he was remembered was his eagerness to embrace innovation. I think he might have been secretly happy to see that even in his burial he managed to do something new that no one had ever seen before. :-) When we were at the funeral home to select his casket and vault, we were told that his vault included a customize-able art piece at no additional cost. Mom and I looked at each other and knew immediately which image to use.
True to the director's promise, it was a conversation piece.
I captured the images of Dad about five years ago. The first is him looking at one of his fields, irrigation running as darkness fell at the end of a long summer's day. The other photo was Dad working the ground into the evening on a cool, fall evening.
Below, Jenny greets our great-aunt Dorene.
The brief service included a special song suggested by Ellie. She sang along with Kyle, who led the music for the day.
below, my Dad's cousin, Dan, who traveled up from Texas, and Chris.
Our proper English friend, John, going casual to sport a John Deere belt buckle in honor of Dad.
One last photo with Dad before we left.
Chris' wife, Karen, graciously supervised the food at the farm house for more than 100 people. It was so nice to have extra time to visit with those I don't get to see so often, many who live quite a distance from central Illinois.
All of my mom's Whiteford cousins came (from great distance!) to support her with their presence.
The cool kids' table on the front porch... that is, until I joined, ha ha. :-)
Thank you, Kelly, for coming AND documenting the event on our behalf!! We will treasure the images forever!
The following morning Mom hosted a brunch for all of our Whiteford family who came. We had more than 40!
The days that followed were a blur of culling, sorting, gifting, and remembering. Our family wants to say 'thank you' for all your outpouring of love, kind messages, food, cards, and gifts. It helped so much to know how loved Dad was by so many.
