Tag Archives: Sad days

Cloudy Heart Day

I woke up in the predawn hours and checked the weather app for the conditions at the farm today . Cold and cloudy was the prediction my phone had. I guess in my head I had wished for a spring sunny day with balmy temps and daffodils popping up in the yard for the day of Adam’s Funeral. Instead, the weather will give cover for those who will clutch themselves tightly as to brace from the cold, when it is the emotions of saying goodbye to Adam that they will likely be bracing against.

I use to wonder what good purpose was it to have calling hours and a funeral. (Side story, my co workers have never heard the term calling hours. So now I’m unsure if that is a regional or family term that I grew up with to signify the visitation time before a funeral)

Before I was forced to be in a receiving line at a funeral, I imagined it to be about the worst place one could be. Being on the receiving side of everyone else’s emotions on a day you never wanted to have happen in the first place.

What I learned though was that in the days between the death and the funeral, you pick through photos and stories with those closest in your circle basically having days of living memorial services with each conversation around the kitchen table , yard or impromptu gathering spot. By the time there is a line in front of you, you are ready to see a “few” people come through the line.

It didn’t take long for me to realize   what the  value is standing in that line though. I was amazed at the small but touching stories that the person shaking my hand (often with their hand shaking from emotion) would relay. Sometimes people could only manage a hug, lacking the words to match their emotions. Somehow, those hugs told even deeper stories. In those hours of standing and greeting, I got it. The method, the reason. Why it is an important part of dealing and healing from the gaping wound of losing someone so near. That in the mass of people and stories, hugs and handshakes, your vision begins to change. The broken bits get picked up and arranged into a viewer so that the slightest bit of light now shows a beautiful kaleidoscope. With every new person comes a turn of the lenses and another beautiful view of how your loved one touched their life. Sometimes, it wasn’t even directly. I was thankful for even those who came because my loved one touched the life of their loved one and they just wanted to pay respects for that.

I’m sorry I will not be at the funeral today to share in the stories and hugs.
I can envision a 21 tractor salute for Adam. The taking of his casket to to cemetery on a 1910 steel wheel wagon pulled by a two cylinder antique John Deere tractor. Not really practical, as those old tractors would make for a really slow procession, but the imagery will by my personal service paid to Adam in my mind.

Love to all today who share in the memory of Adam Henry Michael. If someone gives you an extra long hug, know that part of it was from me, for I will be with you all in spirit.

Sally

Sad days

It’s such a sad time. My dear cousin’s son has died. He was 21 and we all thought his road would be a long one with lots of pit stops and amazing highlights. Instead his truck hit a guard rail, flipped into the creek below and he was killed.

I won’t claim to have known Adam well as I haven’t been back to Ohio all that often, but each time I was back at the farm, my cousin was there and so was Adam. The last time was for my nephew Ian and Kattie’s wedding. Adam was going nonstop getting orders barked at him from all directions and never ever dropping his head wishing for the orders to stop. He just jumped up and did the task. Frankly, I was amazed for I would have railed against such constant demands when I was that age. Adam gave me the impression that he knew that by just being around the projects and duties of the farm, he was learning skills and got to share in ideas that others go away to learn. He observed his dad and my brother work side by side for years each knowing the next step of the other without words being passed. He mimicked their arguments in a way that he got the love that underlies it all.  To hear is sisters side, he learned how to then bark orders quite well himself once he was back home where he often took command.

That pic for me is was how Adam was for me, funny, goofy, in the middle of it all.

To me, Adam had a smile with eyes that sparkled when he did. Sometimes, I would catch him hanging around and he would have this grin, like he knew the joke before the rest of us even spoke.

The saying goes that we “lost” someone dear. But what I know to be true, is that in taking away his physical body, the rest of us will find where Adam remains. You see, energy cannot be destroyed, and Adam worked on so many projects, tractors, helped out in so many ways, put energy into so many things, that those who spent any time with him will likely now find him everywhere.

I know you will be missed Adam, but it is memories and the energies of what we did that get left behind, so thank you for leaving so much at the farm and pond and home for everyone to have forever.

To all the Michael and Tomlinson families, you are in my heart, prayers and tears.

love you all,

Sally