Had no idea that it was possible to cry as much as I have during the past couple of weeks. Since my dad’s death last Thursday evening, I’ve been telling myself that tears have purpose. It’s okay to cry. Things will ‘get better.’ Well, last night I discovered I am wrong (first time ever – okay maybe second [actually gazillionth]). Some tears have purpose – some are just silly.
Christopher and I were at Hobby Lobby. It was around 7ish… maybe 7:30pm. The reason for our visit – to pick out a container for my dad’s ashes. I was keeping it together – for the most part. A stray tear hear and there. Really – people are stocking up on Christmas at 80% off. Don’t they know this is a somber occasion?
Anyhoo, we get to the checkout line. The container I picked seemed to have a small blemish on the back. Did you read that? On the back. Only myself and whoever reads this will know it is there. I ask (trying to decide if I should blame Six Sigma training) for a discount. I’m casual. You know – just point out the imperfection and say, would you be willing to take a little off. It’s the only container this size and so on.
The manager (assumption on my part -whomever the cashier asked) replies, “Ma’am it’s already 50% off, I can’t take any more off.” I start to cry. Why? Because the container I picked was on sale. Not just any sale, but 50% off. I proceed to tell my ever-so-patient husband all the reasons that my daddy deserved better. He should be in a beautiful hand-made, but simple, high-varnish hardwood box. Something that would show respect and pay tribute to the great man that he was in the life of so many.
Oh, brother! Daddy’s not there. His ashes do not represent his soul. I believe in life after death. I also believe Daddy’s in heaven rejoicing in God’s glory (took me a few days to get there, but now I am and so much peace about that – different day, different blog). So, why do I care? I remember telling a close friend less than a week ago – doesn’t matter if he’s in a paper bag or in a gold box. Still believe that. Still believe that some tears have purpose. Recognize that others are just silly. Privilege of hindsight: sometimes silly is under-rated. 🙂