.The Service.

My fathers funeral was yesterday. It was a beautiful service and a beautiful day and a wonderful celebration of my fathers life. It was also one of the hardest days of my life.

A few weeks ago I found, online, this story about a dragonfly. I read it and tucked it away. When my father passed, my mother said "I just wish he could give me a sign that he's okay......why can't he do that?" and I instantly thought of the dragonfly story and said "I know why......" and I read it to her. At that moment, I knew I had to include it on the programs for the Church Service. Here is the story....

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After I decided to use that story I was seeing dragonfly's everywhere I turned. Flying around me at the Church the day we made service arrangements, I drove by "Dragonfly Cafe" where there was a big dragonfly on the side of the building and when I came home I saw Delaney's pink bike helmet in the garage that has dragonfly's all over it. I took it as a sign that my father's soul had made it's journey to Heaven and he was letting us know he was okay. Then at the service when Deacon Hawk did the Homily I was touched to hear him use the story and build upon it. At the cemetery, as we gathered around for final prayers and goodbye, a dragonfly came, flitted around, landed and hung out on the flowers atop my father's casket. That dragonfly stayed the entire time we were out there.

The Eulogy I gave my father, it's short but I was asked to keep it 3-5 minutes long by the Catholic Chruch:

If my father were here today, he'd say "look at this beautiful day God has given us" because that's how he started his day, whether it was 20 below or warm and sunny. Today, is the perfect kind of day to celebrate his life. Thank you all for coming.

I remember when my Grandfather passed away and my father was preparing his eulogy. He was so nervous about getting up in front of everyone and wondered if he'd make it through it without breaking down. Today, I completely understand how he was feeling. Like father like daughter with the fear of public speaking.

The fact that you're here means my father has touched your life in some way and I know I don't need to tell you what a wonderful man he was or how much he loved his wife and best friend of 40 years, his children, his grandchildren and the rest of his family, the Red Sox, Sunny days, a walk on the causeway or a glass of wine with his friends.

I know every little girl thinks their father is the best dad ever---but mine truly was. He was the kind of father who played the guitar and sang silly songs to us, who made homemade fudge on Christmas Eve and the best pizza ever. He told the silliest tall tales. He once got his then 3 year old granddaughter to watch an entire Red Sox game by telling her the catcher was Barney the Dinosaur. Those of you who knew him well knew he had an innate ability to tell a story. He could take a 5 second story and make it last 5 minutes, with his arms going and all kinds of expression in those kind blue eyes of his. We'd all smile and roll our eyes, grandchildren included. This morning, I asked my daughter, Delaney, "what's something silly you remember about Poppy?" and without hesitation she said "remember how Poppy would always pretend he was missing a finger and he would tell me that a turtle bit it off?" I'm going to miss those stories.

We can't forget his sense of humor, which we saw glimpses of, right up until the end, even though he didn't have much to smile about. For example, 2 days before he passed away I sat and did a crossword puzzle with him. I said to him "horse blank, 4 letters". He held up his hand and put up four fingers, one by one and said "crap". So Dad.

The other night my 8 year old son, Carter, came to me and sat on my lap and cried and said "why did God have to take Poppy?" and as I searched for something to tell him, to help his broken heart feel better, I felt a sense of peace as these words came out of my mouth, because I knew, in my heart, it was true.......

"God loves Poppy so much that he took him home to be with him. Poppy tried to get better, to come back to us, to be with us but he was just too sick. He's in a better place now and he's happy and I know he's looking down on us. He'll always be with us in our hearts and minds but we're sure going to miss him being here with us."

My wonderful friend Jan sketched this portrait of my father for me. I will treasure it always. Thank you Jan!

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