I attended my step dad's funeral the other day, the cancer finally took him. I was sitting outside the chapel of rest waiting for the previous party to leave and I was taken aback by how serene a graveyard could be, I felt almost at peace if that makes sense. Sitting there, my cheeks frozen and nose red by the chill in the air, it was a clear and crisp day, with the birds crowing in the background, a perfect funeral movie scene if ever there was one, it made me chuckle slightly. How I found amusement in such a sad day is beyond me but if I didn't find the laughter from somewhere the tears would invariably flow and I wasn't quite ready just yet, to say goodbye.
I was watching these people milling about and it struck me how there was an unspoken bond between all of them, united by their grief of a relative or close friend. Knowing glances and empty hugs were exchanged but reassuring all the same, being a vetran of such an occasion it just reminded me that through the sadness and sorrow that engulfed us, it would eventually ebb away and the days wouldn''t seem so dark. I remember feeling that it wouldn't be hard I just had to be there for my mother, how wrong was I? Whether age has factored into my logic of thinking these days I can't be sure but I was sobbing with the best of them but I must interject here and explain that my step dad's father came out of retirement to perform his own son's funeral and at the ripe ole age of 84 neverless.
He talked about bravery, how there where many forms the obvious being soliders going off to fight for queen and country, fireman, polieman etc but then the unspoke bravery of a man with the knowledge of his impending death and battling against the will to give up before his time. My stepdad underwent varoius guinea pig like experiments for cancer research which in the end didn't help him but whe asked if he thought it was worth it, he answered for him personally no, but if someday it contributed towrds helping another human life, then yes.
Right on the cue the tears began to flow, it was only then did it register that my stepdad was gone, I wouldn't get to see his cheeky smile when visting with my son, or engaging him in some random conversation about which ever reality show had my attention at the time (for which he would berate me on so many levels) this was his way of humouring me.
Yet the thing that made me ache inside was the knowledge I had let him get close to me, I saw him as my father and as quickly he came into my life he was taken away. After losing my real father I made it my business not to get pally with mum's partner's for fear of losing them but as times gone by the untrusting barriers I had so carefully bulit around my heart melted when mum had met my stepdad. He was so honest and open from the start and I could't help taking a shine to him, he was a fantastic man and brilliant with my mum. I hope wherever he is, he's happy and that one day I'll meet him again.
