Dad's burial service
Sep. 28th, 2013 08:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrAs I mentioned, this week was the one year anniversary of Dad's death. Dad had always intended to be cremated, and since he died in Italy, that was sort of mandatory. He'd always joked that Mom should just sprinkle his ashes on a golf course, but when finally confronted with the actual situation, Mom didn't quite feel that was right. So she simply kept Dad's ashes in his study for the past year, content that she would eventually figure out what would be the right thing to do with them.
Then a friend reminded her that since Dad had been in the Navy, he had the right to be buried in a military cemetery, with military honors. The Fort Snelling cemetery is right here in Minneapolis, and suddenly, that felt right. Dad had certainly loved his time in the Navy, he was in the Navy when they were married, and they had an idyllic first year together when he was stationed in Cuba, at Guantanamo Bay. What's more, as his spouse, Mom had the right to be buried there, too, when the time comes. So Mom made all the arrangements, and we had Dad's burial service yesterday.
We came to the cemetery at the appointed time, and were met by a volunteer, who led us to the ceremony shelter. We were met by the Honor Guard. This duty is performed by veterans on a volunteer basis, many of them quite elderly. And they have a lot of honoring to do. The volunteer who met us let us know there would be about thirty burial services at the cemetery that day.
Dad's ashes were placed on a bier. The candle in front of the urn was the candle we had in front of his picture at his funeral.
The ceremony was very brief, but still quite moving. One veteran spoke, explaining what would take place, and warned us not to be startled by the gun salute, 'which can be quite loud.' With crisp military precision, the honor guard delivered a three-gun salute, and then the trumpeter played 'Taps.' How can such a simple song get its hooks into the heart that way?
Finally, a veteran brought the flag that had been placed on the bier to Mom and presented it to her, and said with heartfelt sincerity those famous words as she fought back her tears:
We were together, and we were glad.
The volunteer came back and told us kindly that the time they could grant us use of the shelter was over, that another family would be coming to use it for the next ceremony. So we left, leaving Dad's ashes there in the bier, and went to a nearby hotel to sit with wine and coffee, to talk and to just to be together.
After an hour or so, it was time to return to the cemetery to see where Dad had been buried. The section where had been placed is one designated for cremations, so the graves are a little closer together. Mom has ordered Dad's stone, and it'll be ready in about six weeks, but until then, there is a marker to show us his final resting place. It took as a few moments to find it. The row he was placed in is obviously a new one, where people were buried today. At the end of the row were more holes, still empty, covered with plywood boards.
Several of the new graves on either side had flowers placed on them, obviously brought by the families for their own ceremonies, and I felt badly that none of us had thought to bring flowers for Dad. Then I suddenly realized, I did have a flower. I had put on my Fleurings necklace that morning and placed a rose in it. It was starting to droop a little, but I was still so glad to be able to offer something. I took the rose out and tucked it at the foot of the marker.
We stood for awhile and looked around. There are not as many trees here as there are in the older parts of the cemetery, where the WWI and WWII vets are buried, but this is a new section, and trees will be planted. Still, it's a lovely spot at the top of a hill. Someone joked that he could see Dad chipping a golf ball between the graves over the top of the hill.
I got choked up, thinking about it: Dad had traveled so many places in the world, and he had died half a world a way, in Italy. This was his final journey and here he would stay for good.
Where would Mom be buried, we wondered. Would she be placed in a different part of the cemetery? And then we saw close by a headstone that had a temporary marker in front it it. Yes, that was the husband's headstone, and the new grave was the wife's. We looked around some more and saw headstones with the husband's name on the front and the wife's name on the back. So yes, Mom would be buried right there with him.
I happened to glance up to the sky, and I gasped aloud. "Look up, everyone!" It was an eagle! Or was it a hawk? It was high up above and I couldn't quite tell. I remembered the Bible verse that we had read earlier that afternoon and felt a lump rise in my throat. Oh, Dad.
Finally, it was time to go. It was hard, walking away, leaving Dad behind. But he was with companions who had served as honorably as he had. And we will be back. We've never really had a grave to visit or tend in our family before, but we will tend this one with love and pride. I'll be sure to bring flowers.
His headstone will be ready around the time of his birthday. And there will be Memorial Days in all the years to come. Or we can come out anytime for no particular reason. Just to be with him when we miss him.
Because we do.
Then a friend reminded her that since Dad had been in the Navy, he had the right to be buried in a military cemetery, with military honors. The Fort Snelling cemetery is right here in Minneapolis, and suddenly, that felt right. Dad had certainly loved his time in the Navy, he was in the Navy when they were married, and they had an idyllic first year together when he was stationed in Cuba, at Guantanamo Bay. What's more, as his spouse, Mom had the right to be buried there, too, when the time comes. So Mom made all the arrangements, and we had Dad's burial service yesterday.
We came to the cemetery at the appointed time, and were met by a volunteer, who led us to the ceremony shelter. We were met by the Honor Guard. This duty is performed by veterans on a volunteer basis, many of them quite elderly. And they have a lot of honoring to do. The volunteer who met us let us know there would be about thirty burial services at the cemetery that day.
Dad's ashes were placed on a bier. The candle in front of the urn was the candle we had in front of his picture at his funeral.
The ceremony was very brief, but still quite moving. One veteran spoke, explaining what would take place, and warned us not to be startled by the gun salute, 'which can be quite loud.' With crisp military precision, the honor guard delivered a three-gun salute, and then the trumpeter played 'Taps.' How can such a simple song get its hooks into the heart that way?
Finally, a veteran brought the flag that had been placed on the bier to Mom and presented it to her, and said with heartfelt sincerity those famous words as she fought back her tears:
On behalf of the President of the United States and the Chief of Naval Operations, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's service to this Country and a grateful Navy.The Honor Guard retired, and got into their van and departed, off to the next ceremony. We had fifteen minutes to stay, during which we read aloud some things that Mom had prepared. One was one of his favorite bible passages, Isaiah 40:29-31:
He gives power to the faint, and to him who had no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary and young man shall fall exhausted; But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, and they shall mount up with wings like eagles, and they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.We read some of the remembrances that had been sent to us by friends and family at the time of the funeral.
We were together, and we were glad.
The volunteer came back and told us kindly that the time they could grant us use of the shelter was over, that another family would be coming to use it for the next ceremony. So we left, leaving Dad's ashes there in the bier, and went to a nearby hotel to sit with wine and coffee, to talk and to just to be together.
After an hour or so, it was time to return to the cemetery to see where Dad had been buried. The section where had been placed is one designated for cremations, so the graves are a little closer together. Mom has ordered Dad's stone, and it'll be ready in about six weeks, but until then, there is a marker to show us his final resting place. It took as a few moments to find it. The row he was placed in is obviously a new one, where people were buried today. At the end of the row were more holes, still empty, covered with plywood boards.
Several of the new graves on either side had flowers placed on them, obviously brought by the families for their own ceremonies, and I felt badly that none of us had thought to bring flowers for Dad. Then I suddenly realized, I did have a flower. I had put on my Fleurings necklace that morning and placed a rose in it. It was starting to droop a little, but I was still so glad to be able to offer something. I took the rose out and tucked it at the foot of the marker.
We stood for awhile and looked around. There are not as many trees here as there are in the older parts of the cemetery, where the WWI and WWII vets are buried, but this is a new section, and trees will be planted. Still, it's a lovely spot at the top of a hill. Someone joked that he could see Dad chipping a golf ball between the graves over the top of the hill.
I got choked up, thinking about it: Dad had traveled so many places in the world, and he had died half a world a way, in Italy. This was his final journey and here he would stay for good.
Where would Mom be buried, we wondered. Would she be placed in a different part of the cemetery? And then we saw close by a headstone that had a temporary marker in front it it. Yes, that was the husband's headstone, and the new grave was the wife's. We looked around some more and saw headstones with the husband's name on the front and the wife's name on the back. So yes, Mom would be buried right there with him.
I happened to glance up to the sky, and I gasped aloud. "Look up, everyone!" It was an eagle! Or was it a hawk? It was high up above and I couldn't quite tell. I remembered the Bible verse that we had read earlier that afternoon and felt a lump rise in my throat. Oh, Dad.
Finally, it was time to go. It was hard, walking away, leaving Dad behind. But he was with companions who had served as honorably as he had. And we will be back. We've never really had a grave to visit or tend in our family before, but we will tend this one with love and pride. I'll be sure to bring flowers.
His headstone will be ready around the time of his birthday. And there will be Memorial Days in all the years to come. Or we can come out anytime for no particular reason. Just to be with him when we miss him.
Because we do.